SW Ep IV: Dark Assassin
by Eversotd
Summary: AU: taken by slavers at age 3, Luke grows up only known as "Specter," the most infamous assassin in the galaxy. When Leia's ship is taken, Luke's hired to rescue her. Only, Han & Chewie show up, taking Kenobi to Alderaan & Vader senses his old master's presence. With the galaxy now at the mercy of the DS1, will Specter arise to save them all? Will the Jedi within awaken to action?
1. Chapter 1: Updated-Pursuit

**A/N: **Hey all, Eversotd here. So, this is my first hand at a Star Wars fic; so I hope you like, and I'd appreciate your reviews so I know how I'm doing. I've got two other fics as well; one Avengers fic and one Aladdin fic. Give them a peek if you feel so inclined. Well; that's it—oh no flames in the reviews plz; thorough, yes; flames, no. Well, let's get started!

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_Star Wars Ep. IV AU: Ch. 1 Pursuit _

**Tatooine: three years after Empire Day**

The Lars' homestead was charred; smoke billowed into the air as two bodies lay smoldering near one of the doors, reduced to blacked skeletons. The pirates hadn't expected them to be so resistant; who knew the older couple would put up a fight? Well, the 'fight' so called hadn't lasted long and now what meager possessions they had were being loaded into the lethally curved star-cruiser parked nearby.

There were five of them total; two men, a Rodian, a Wookie and woman. The woman kept watch, her hand flexing on her large blaster as she scoured the sand-scape with her dark eyes.

"Hey!" one of the men called, "look what I found!" He came ambling up out of one of the roundish buildings, dragging a small bundle next to him. The woman started when she heard it squeal.

"It's a kid," the man announced; she rolled her eyes.

"Really? And here I thought it was Jabba the Hutt."

The man blinked. "Good thinking, Lerla. We can sell 'im for a good price."

Lerla rolled her eyes again. "That's why you'll never be captain; you never think."

The man stared blankly at her. She sighed. "Jabba's a cheapskate; we'd not get more than 500 credits for the kid; we can get double that on Kessel."

The man nodded. "Good thinking."

"One of us has to."

The man snorted and handed the kid over to her. Lerla gave him a once over. He was about three, with fair skin and tousle of bright blonde hair.

She had to admit, hardened pirate or not, he was kind of adorable.

She sighed again; she must be going soft.

"C'mon people," she yelled, "while the suns are up!" They had other homesteads to hit, after all.

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**14 years later, over Tatooine**

Leia felt the cruiser shake as their pursuers landed another shot. Her blockade runner wouldn't last much longer, she knew.

Her small hands tightened around the disk holding the Death Star plans. The full weight of the moment settled on her; if she failed to get the schematics to the Alliance, they were finished.

Them: and the entire galaxy with them.

She couldn't fail.

Captain Antilles found her. "Princess; they'll be able to get a tracking beam on us in moments," he said grimly. "Let me get you to an escape pod. If we launch enough of them, they might assume our ship merely short-circuited from all this blaster fire."

Escape pod. An idea lit in her mind.

"No, Captain," she said firmly, "keep evading them; as long as possible," she rested a hand on his shoulder, "you've just given me an idea."

His face brightened hopefully. He nodded, "As you wish, Your Highness." With that, he hurried away.

Leia headed down the corridor, opposite as she heard the clunking of his boots as he raced to do her bidding.

Captain Antilles; she knew she'd keep such a loyal officer around forever.

And then she felt the ship shake again and heard the main reactor shut down.

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"This is madness!" 3-PO exclaimed as Artoo and he tried to locate someplace safe. Well, he was looking for a safe place to hide; he was sensible after all. Artoo, who knew what that little droid was seeking out?

Artoo whistled; his dome moving back and forth.

"What do you mean, you wonder where she is? Where who is?"

Artoo replied; and Threepio felt the ship shudder again. He only half heard his counterpart as he said, "There'll be no escape for the Princess this time." All the previous times perhaps; with her wit and diplomatic immunity and charms, she had eluded Imperial detainment more times than should have been allowed—even Darth Vader, on more than one occasion…but now?

No; not this time. Her luck had run out.

Threepio turned to tell Artoo they should find the nearest hanger; there would be plenty of hiding places amongst the crates…but Artoo was gone.

"Artoo!?"

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Obi-Wan Kenobi loved to meditate; in his younger years, he hadn't longed for action as some of the other Padawans had; no, he was a diplomat at heart, even earning the nickname "The Negotiator," during the Clone Wars. But, even now, his face lined with wrinkles, his hair bleached white with time and stress, meditation was a calm, sweet haven, where he knew real peace.

Qui-Gon Jinn, his former mentor, often visited him in his solitude; it was reassuring when the apparition of his Master came. Obi-Wan didn't truly understand why he had been called away to help the Jedi Underground 14 years ago—the time Luke was taken.

Luke.

Obi-Wan sighed despondently; he had failed in his charge. He had promised Padmé on her deathbed he would watch over her son; he had assured Master Yoda the same of Luke-

"_I will take the boy and watch over him." _

And he hadn't. Yes, Qui-Gon had told him to leave Luke's side, to venture to the Outer Rim where a remnant of Jedi had survived Order 66; he had helped them form what was now called the Jedi Underground…but it didn't alleviate the feeling of horror when he had returned—

The Lars' Homestead was in ruin; Beru and Owen's bodies charred to the bones.

He had failed. Luke was gone; not dead, he was certain of that…but still gone.

And he had not the slightest idea where.

The worst of it was, Qui-Gon had forbid him to seek out the boy: his charge. Qui-Gon had assured him all was proceeding according to the will of the Force…but Obi-Wan hated no longer being able to watch over Padmé and Anakin's only child.

Anakin, who was like his brother-his son even. How much Luke had looked like him: the same hair; same eyes. Obi-Wan couldn't hold back the grin.

That would have pleased Anakin to no end, he was certain.

Loneliness weighed on him then; seemed to gnaw through his skin to settle in his stomach.

It had been 17 years now, since he had lost his surrogate brother and his good friend Padmé-Anakin's wife.

"_You're with him! You brought him here to kill me!"_

He had so desperately, in that moment, wanted to cry out to Anakin: "_No! Padme would never betray you; and neither would I! We're here to save you, to bring you back!" _

But he hadn't. He _had feared_.

Feared.

_Feared_ that if he showed any sentiment, he wouldn't be able to do what he must; feared that he would fail the Jedi Order, Yoda, the galaxy…everyone; lives beyond count, if he hadn't frantically held to his resolve.

If he hadn't forced himself to forget Anakin was his brother; his son; his friend. That he was no longer Anakin…but Darth Vader.

"_Send me to kill the Emperor,"_ he had begged Yoda, _"I cannot kill Anakin."_

And he _hadn't_ been able. The galaxy had fallen to the Sith—because he and Yoda hadn't been able to destroy them.

"_You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you." _

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and rubbed his temples with a sigh. His meditations didn't always plunge him into the past; but every so often they did.

He wondered why Anakin would come to mind now.

And then he felt the ripple in the Force…Vader.

_Vader_ was here. Had Obi-Wan been found? Had an Inquisitor discovered him? Obi-Wan had sensed no dark siders near in some time; people usually only came to Tatooine to hide-

Or buy or sell slaves.

_Oh, Luke, I hope that wasn't your fate_.

Obi-Wan kept his thoughts quiet, but allowed them to discreetly reach towards Vader's presence; good, the dark lord hadn't detected him then. He wondered why Vader would travel here; this world held nothing but tormenting memories for him. So…why?

Oh, no. Obi-Wan caught the presence of the reason: Leia. No; Vader was after her then.

Obi-Wan rose and made his way out of his secluded home and let the Force guide his eyes up into the twilit sky.

He could make out two small lights that were most definitely not stars. Vader's Dreadnaught…and the Princess's cruiser.

He had to do something- especially as he had good reason to guess he was what drew Leia here.

When the Committee of 3,000's leaders met to discuss a rebellion against the Empire, Queen Breha had been pregnant with Leia. Obi-Wan recalled the promise he made to Bail, Leia's father, just after he had looked into their baby's future for them.

"_Your daughter will be a great diplomat, like you Bail. If she ever needs me, I promise, I will do all I can for her."_

And of course he had told Bail where Leia could locate him if need be. He rushed back into the house. He had to gather supplies-

Qui-Gon's apparition was waiting for him once he passed through the doorway.

"You saw the ships?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "I did, Master. I'll collect my things-"

"You'll wait first."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but blink. "Wait?"

Qui-Gon somberly nodded. "Princess Leia has sent her two droids to the planet's surface in a pod; the astromech is holding the schematics for the super-weapon that was first being designed at the start of the Clone Wars."

Obi-Wan nodded; he remembered the whispers of the super-weapon during his imprisonment on Geonosis. "And I am to collect them?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "Then find transport for you all off Tatooine. Bring the plans to Garm Bel-Iblis; he'll have specialists ready to discern a weakness in this super-weapon."

Obi-Wan gestured, "But what about Leia?"

Qui-Gon actually smiled. "Rescue for her is being purchased as we speak."

"Purchased!?"

Another nod. "Indeed," and Qui-Gon grinned in a way that convinced Kenobi he was not telling all he knew—per usual. "All is coming together, my old Padawan; you'll see."

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**A/N: **OK, well, that's all for now, hope you like! Let me know what you think! ***New note: so sorry about the delay in updating; I wanted to fix a few things that were wrong with this chapter before adding another—plus other things got in the way. I'll be adding Ch. 2 either today or tomorrow! Thx for being patient!


	2. Chapter 2: Infamous

**A/N: **Hello all; first off, I'm SOOO terribly sorry about the update taking this long! I got sick and then fell way behind in my homework; then to sum it all up I had a personal emergency to deal with…but the storm has passed and now we can get back to it!

So, for all 170 readers who were so beautifully patient: thanks!

Of course, NONE of this is mine; all SW characters, places, etc. belong to Lucas/Disney; I'll be introducing a few OC's; those are mine. All else is not. K? Great; ok, so here we go! Onward!

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_SW IV AU: Dark Assassin Ch. 2: Infamous_

Obi-Wan wasted no time after Qui-Gon vanished in draping the large hood of his brown cloak over his head to ward off the glaring sun as well as any wind-blown sand and headed back outside. It only took a few moments to pull the camouflage-cover off his speeder and coax the engine into firing—he used the thing so seldom; there was no need after all.

Well; and it reminded him so much of _flying_…blast it all….

And he was off into the Dune Sea.

Briefly, as he allowed the Force to direct him on a certain, barely noticeable path—worn into the canyons by the Tusken Raiders and their banthas—he where Luke was.

He hoped the boy was all right. Qui-Gon had refused to reveal anything about the Padme and Anakin's child; save that he was alive.

Obi-Wan, for the millionth time, wondered why.

The sound of the engine echoed off the tall copper-tan, rock walls.

He summoned the Force to smother the noise and pressed on.

He could do nothing now to help Luke.

But he could do something to aid Leia.

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Garm Bel-Iblis was a man who considered himself a seasoned veteran of wars, of politics…and of the one thing that involved both—

People.

People were the same, he had found, in spite of which "battlefield" one faced them in: the wars fought with weapons, or in the Senatorial arena where wars were won or lost with words.

He had learned people well: how to cut through their gaffe to ferret out the truth, how to pick apart their body language to glean their real thoughts and intentions….

Yes, he had refined the craft to a laser's precision.

So…why did _this_ man baffle him so!?

Garm found himself in a small, dimly lit room at an oval table, trying—futilely moreover—to comprehend the man seated across from him.

It didn't help that the room was just large enough to support them and the sparse furniture…Garm did prefer much greater freedom of mobility.

It was the warrior in him, he figured.

But, the other, he seemed perfectly at ease…and in control—it was unnerving. Even though they agreed to meet on Home One, the man's posture was professional, he sat upright and was clearly fully attentive; but…his shoulders were so relaxed and his limbs so loose…you'd think the man believed he was Mon Mothma.

Garm repressed a frustrated exhale at thinking of her. They had argued again about strategy; the woman was a _senator;_ confound it all—but one would never know it by listening to her talk at their conferences. She acted like she was General Riekien, Dondonna and Admiral Ackbar combined!

Maybe his 'craft' needed more honing after all.

"Is something wrong, General?" the man asked.

Garm quickly re-gathered himself. He didn't need their 'guest' believing the general couldn't equal his focus. "No…no, shall we continue?"

"By all means."

Garm laid out the situation the Rebellion found himself in as he silently decided to re-evaluate the mysterious man before him—for the _Force-knew-how-many-ith-time_.

He couldn't be certain, but he guessed the man to be human; it was difficult to conclude with any certainty because he had never seen this man apart from his assassin's garb-which covered his entire body; he had never even appeared at one of their 'meetings' without his full helmet and face mask.

"Princess Leia's ship was taken a few hours ago; we received a brief distress call right before her cruiser was boarded and all communications were cut off."

The man only nodded.

Garm let out a small breath and went on; describing how they were able to uncover the location was planet Tatooine, whom they believe took her and so on.

The man only listened, nodding here and there to show he was absorbing all; his body was otherwise lax, albeit dignified.

Ready for anything; Garm didn't find it surprising.

The man was after all, an assassin: the most famous—and _infamous_—in the entire galaxy:

The Spector.

Spector asked no questions; he didn't even try to quibble over the price Garm offered to rescue the princess. In fact, now that he sifted through his memories, he realized that Spector had only asked him one question in the two years that he had called upon the man's services for various jobs the Rebellion didn't have the means to accomplish itself.

"_Why do you solicit me? Wouldn't a bounty hunter suffice better?"_

"_No."_

"_And your reasoning?"_

"_Because you're the best there is; even Boba Fett isn't skilled enough to go against you. And I only call upon the best. That's you."_

"_Fair enough." _

All right; that was technically two questions. But, it was true; Spector was bar none, the most lethal and fearsome man in the galaxy. He never stopped until a mission was completed; he never failed…and no one ever escaped him; everyone with sense and brains lived in terror of him. Even the Empire left him alone; a marvel in itself.

Well; perhaps it was because they grew tired of sending hit men after him only to have their bodies (not always in one piece) delivered back to them…boxed and wrapped.

Garm was pretty sure the Empire had just gotten the message.

Nor was he ever captured; in fact, Garm had never heard of him being _seen_ when carrying out a job. He simply vanished and then reappeared once said mission was over.

And if he _was_ ever seen; well, it was probably by the target, who was too dead to tell afterwards.

His name was truly befitting—though Garm had no doubt it wasn't his true name.

No assassin went by their birth name; it was considered suicidal: to them and any family that was living.

In fact, the best assassins faked their deaths before officially entering the profession for greater anonymity. Garm briefly wondered if Spector had done likewise.

He wouldn't have doubted it. The man was a professional; through and through.

"Your price is satisfactory," Spector evenly replied, his masked helmet altering his voice to the rich, hard tone it was now. Garm nodded, wondering what he really sounded like.

"Would you mind if I asked you something?"

Spector gestured casually; saying he did not.

"Why do you never argue or haggle over the payment?"

"Because I know the rebellion isn't made out of money," was the immediate and indifferent reply. "I take what you're able to afford; it's fine. I'm hardly struggling, after all."

Garm let himself scan the extremely high-tech uniform Spector always wore at their negotiations; the sleek contours, the various hidden pockets and compartments holding who knew what poison or weaponry…yes, Spector was not in the poor house by any means, he concluded.

"I'll take the credits and be on my way then." That was the ritual every time: Garm paid, Spector did his job and Garm was notified later on when said task was successful.

Spector never failed; that's why Garm was sending him to retrieve the princess.

He didn't wonder where the Empire would hold such a singularly important prisoner:

It's new super-secret battle station: the Death Star.

No rebel could hope to penetrate those defenses to rescue Leia.

But the galaxy's most horrifying assassin, Garm was resolute that _he_ could.

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**A/N: **Ok, you've met Spector at last! More to come, I promise it won't take so long this time! Plz leave a review; I'd love to know what you all think. Hold the flames though, plz.


	3. Chapter 3: Revenant

**A/N: **OK, so I've found that writing this fic is a bit more…laborious than my 'Aladdin' fic. I think because this is SUCH a huge classic and so many ppl LUV it…the pressure's on to do this right…. Anyways, thanks again for the reading and to those of you who have reviewed; plz know how much it means to me and that I am trying to, even though this is AU, stay true to the core of the SW universe. I'll be making changes as the story demands, but beyond that, you'll still see the SW foundation shining through. I've recently discovered a new music group called X Brand. Gotta say, some of the pieces are really great! I recommend checking them out; I made a soundtrack for this story to help keep the creative juices flowing; and so far 4 X Brand songs are in it. Well, here we go! Onward!

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_SW Ep. 4: The Dark Assassin Ch. 3- Revenant _

For some reason, when Ben found the two droids being taken by the Tusken Raiders, it didn't surprise him.

The poor robots, he caught sight of them in a ravine below the pass he had discovered after parking his speeder a short distance away—the Force had moved him to proceed on foot—and there they were: a tall one made of gold metal, laying on the ground, it's torso detached from its legs and the other little white and blue Astromech chirping in alarm beside it as he tried to defend his friend by shooting electrical bursts from a small appendage near it's middle.

Ben had to repress the snicker that wanted to slip out at hearing the war cries of the Sand People as the little unit scored a hit.

He had to admit, the spunky droid had excellent aim!

The Tuskens decided, as Obi-wan crept towards them, to form a circle around the two, and wave their gaffe sticks at blue angrily; Obi-Wan halted just behind them and drew upon the Force.

A loud roar sounded throughout the canyon: a Krayt Dragon.

The Raiders hollered in surprise and fled, hopping onto their banthas who were wailing in fear, hearing the creature though not smelling it.

But hearing it was clearly enough.

It was amazing to Ben, every time, how such cumbersome-looking beasts could move so swiftly in perceived peril.

The Artoo unit waved its domed head around, trying to detect the dragon…but instead its scanners picked up a…human?

It bleeped in confusion.

Ben knelt down beside the golden one, noting as he pulled out a satchel full of tools, that this one was a protocol droid—

Wait, a large knot formed in his stomach as he scrutinized Gold and Blue over again.

It couldn't be…but it was. They were Artoo and Threepio—

Anakin and Padme's droids! Here, now, on Tatooine!?

The weight of the moment fell on the Jedi in full; he wanted to cry out in joy…but didn't let himself.

It was a sign; this, this incredible turn of events was surely a sign from the Force. His time to re-enter the war against the Sith had truly arrived.

A pang twisted his insides though; he wished, so wished, that Anakin were here; that they would face the dark, together as they had in the Clone Wars.

He sighed; no, it was pointless to think such things. He set himself to putting Threepio back together.

Artoo chirped greetings to him.

Obi-Wan felt his sadness lift. "It's good to see you again too, my little friend. I take it you've had an interesting time, so far?"

Artoo shook his head, Obi-Wan thought in frustration, and chirped questioningly.

"Oh, don't worry, he'll be all right. The Jundland Wastes aren't, though, to be traveled lightly."

Artoo let out a noise of agreement.

Threepio's eyes lit up as he 'came to.' "Where am I? I must have taken a bad step."

"I think you fell," the Jedi evaluated, looking at the paths above them.

"Oh, oh my." Threepio looked him over. "I'm so sorry; I don't believe we've met."

"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I take it you two are Artoo and Threepio?"

"Oh! Indeed that is so, Master Kenobi. We are here—"

In the distance, the sounds of Tuskens yelling war cries meandered through the ravine to the group.

"Quickly," Obi-Wan said, finishing putting the droid back together again, musing how impressed Anakin would have surely been, "they're on the move."

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Everyone knew it was Spector's ship, the _Revenant. _

As the techs in Home One's smallest hanger worked, fueling ships and preforming routine maintenance, duty just couldn't hold their interest when such a beautiful, lethal vessel was docked just a short distance away.

The craft was so…_ridiculously_ modified it was difficult to tell its original model, but one of the young techs was certain it was a J-type Nubian skiff. No one believed him, contending it would be stupid for the greatest assassin ever to use such a ship for his work. J-type Nubian anything's were typically owned by royals and the other upper crust of the planet Naboo.

Why would an assassin use a _pleasure craft_ for such dark and disturbing work? Wouldn't he utilize a ship with better…well, the tech mused as he cleaned an X-Wing while letting his eyes feast on the mysterious ship nearby…it seemed to him that this ship could do basically whatever the Spector wanted it to, it was so massively altered.

It had the size, shape and sleek curves of the skiff's typical frame, but the gorgeous silver plating was redone in iridescent onyx…which gave it a grim, but somehow mesmerizing look. The tech could spot sections where the plate could open to reveal all sorts of turrets, blaster mounts, and who knew what else. The armor plating alone he was convinced was even more formidable than the Empire's rumored diamond-boron alloys—supposedly impenetrable. The vessel revealed no visible weaponry, but the framework betrayed a great deal of teeth and firepower lurking beneath the lustrous finish.

He saw Tyrn heading towards the vessel, looking around nervously. He was headed…for the ramp, which was of course closed.

"Tyrn," he whispered fiercely, "what are you doing!?"

"I…I just wanna peak inside the ship," he murmured, his eyes wide with excitement but glassy with fear, "it's the Spector's ship, after all!"

He quickly leapt from the ladder he was perched on for working and raced towards his friend.

His mother had always told him to two rules of life: pay your bills on time—

And never, ever go near an assassin's ship!

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Obi-Wan felt Artoo's optic sensors on him as he packed his meager belongings for the trip to…wherever the Force meant for him to go.

As he did, he mulled over the message that Leia's (formerly Padme's) droid had just played for him.

"_Help me, Obi-Wan, you're my only hope."_

It had been painful to hear those words.

"_I failed you, Anakin, I have failed you." _

He had failed his best friend; he wouldn't fail anyone ever again. He had sworn it to the Force.

"_You must see this droid safely delivered to my father, on Alderaan." _

He would; but, he wished Luke were here; he was getting too old for this.

However, he was a Jedi; and he had a mission.

"Gentlemen," he said, sealing his leather bag and reaching for a boa wood box that held a very precious commodity inside. "Let us be on our way."

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Tyrn pulled the hatch to lower the _Revenant_'s ramp before the other tech could prevent him. Just as he reached out to stop his friend, the tell-tale sound of metal on metal indicated it:

The _Revenant_ was _opening up_.

The boy leapt behind the nearest pile of crates, waiting for them all to be blown up by some assassin's security trap.

Nothing happened.

Tyrn was shaking in exhilarated terror. "Nothing, nothing happened."

"No thanks to you!" was the softly uttered snap. "Now, raise the hatch and get away from there," he said, coming out from behind the crates…slowly.

Tyrn shook his tawny head. "N-not…not yet. I wanna see." He crept towards the open ramp-way, yawning at them invitingly.

Like a Plumarthian fly trap, the other thought.

Tyrn's friend, now angry that the other techs were tentatively drawing near, clearly overwhelmed by mutual curiosity, but saying nothing of this…insanity, grabbed Tyrn's arm.

"C'mon, before you get us killed."

But, another boy, smaller with jet black hair crept up to the ramp. "No, wait," he said, craning his neck to peek inside. "Wow."

"_What?!_" everyone whispered eagerly—even the wary one; unable to stop himself.

"It's…it's soooo amazing inside." He trembled in glee, the first to see inside the _Revenant_!? Oh, so many girls would be fawning over him _for sure_ over this!

Everyone huddled around him and they all drew closer to peer inside the formidable ship…the legendary ship.

It was dark inside.

And then they heard it….

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**A/N: **Wow! Today alone 59 ppl viewed this story! I'm soooo thrilled! I hope you all enjoyed. R&R if you did…. I'd LUV to hear your input! Till next time!


	4. Chapter 4: Fade

**A/N: **Wow, 387 readers already!? I'm really happy, won't deny it. So far reviews have been positive, had some ideas and suggestions thrown my way; thanks so much for being nice! I know the SW universe has a LOT of gravity to it (no pun intended) and I am trying to 'carry the torch,' per se, seriously.

OK, so a few things that have been bounced my way about Leia and Queen Breha: yes, in my AU, Padme only gave birth to Luke; Leia is Breha's and Bail's daughter by blood, the queen gave birth to her. I thought a VERY long time about making this change, but this fic, ultimately, will be very Luke/Vader-centric, and no matter how I juggled the plot around, I just couldn't fit Leia in as Luke's sister; it wouldn't work. So, in this fic, Leia is still the strong, beautiful leader of the rebellion, but not a Skywalker.

Also, Mara Jade will be featured in this story; but I have her plotline already worked out; I've had many questions about her character being in this fic…be assured, yes, she will be

I hope that covers everything for now; if you ever have any questions…plz don't hesitate to ask. OK? Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 4- Fade _

The first sound that came from the ship's darkened interior reminded Tyrn of a cat's wail.

A very _creepy_, very _ominous_ cat's wail.

It came again, but much louder this time. It filled the mysterious ship's inside, but also resonated throughout the hanger.

"I _told_ you to stay away from this ship," Tyrn's friend hissed, pulling at his arm to step away.

But…movement within the _Revenant_ made Tyrn stay where he was; in his peripherals, he saw everyone else was fixed in place too, but their wide eyes and paled faces betrayed staying put out of terror; no longer curiosity.

"Whaaaowwwwwww!" whatever it was, in the ship, howled, it's cry raucous and piercing, cutting through their bodies and echoing madly off the high ceilinged hanger walls.

"Ahhhhhh!" was the collective scream of young techs as they were jarred from their paralysis and fled the ship, tripping and falling all over each other in the process. Tyrn was last to bolt away…but he caught a flash of large, lavender eyes in the ship just before his feet propelled him out of the hanger—and he ran right into a pile of crates, yelling as they fell over, him with them.

Within the ship, a long tail wrapped around the ramp's control lever and pulled.

The _Revenant_ closed; remaining a mystery once more.

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From the immense hanger's arched doorway, Garm and Spector came to a halt just in time to hear a penetrating wail followed immediately by the repeated screams of terrified kids.

The boot-steps pounding the metal floor as they ran from the hanger through another exit after falling like demented acrobats died off as they gained more distance.

Spector shook his concealed head. "Your kids gotta quick tryin' to sneak into my ship, general. My…_copilot_ doesn't like it."

Garm pursed his lips, trying to hold at bay any signs of his embarrassment. Those techs…did they even _think_ of how they were representing the Alliance?

"I'll take care of it, I assure you."

Spector nodded. But, a thought occurred to the dark-haired general.

"Your copilot…why does he not ever join our meetings? I'd be pleased to me him."

"Her."

"Oh; apologies. _Her_, then. Who is she?"

Garm could have sworn he heard Spector softly snicker, but, beneath that black, metal helmet and full face shield, he couldn't always be certain.

"Believe me, general, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Garm reflected on all of the incredible things he'd been witness to in this galaxy over the years; actually, he thought himself in a good position to prove Spector wrong.

But, not now; Leia was languishing in some horrible Imperial cell by now. Spector had to be on his way.

"Another time, perhaps then. Good luck, Spector." He shook the other's hand; Spector's grip powerful and his shake, well, hardly weak. "I look forward to your return."

"With the princess; you have my word," was the resolute, but not arrogant reply. With that, the enigmatic man turned on his heel and practically marched to his ship.

Professional; through and through, Garm observed anew.

He felt a surge of confidence.

Spector would not fail.

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Luke heard the 'clank' of the ramp resealing itself as he entered the cockpit. Seating himself in the expensive pilot's seat, he brushed his hand across the sleek and streamlined console.

"Fade, did you have fun?" he wryly asked the thin air around him. He pulled off his face-concealing helmet and shook his head, lemon-colored hair waving to and fro. He put the helmet down beside him.

Over his head and around the copilot's chair, lavender mist formed, and condensed in the 'empty' seat…taking the form of his copilot, Fade.

He had no worries about stray eyes seeing her as he pressed the controls for pre-flight check and take off. The alloy for the viewport was a special one-way design; only through manual controls could the opaque feature be shut down so people could look into the ship's cockpit-

-or anywhere else with viewports, for that matter.

Fade was about the size of a baby Ewok; but Luke had only ever come across one like her:

She was a Force Ethereal; a legendary creature that Luke hadn't even heard tale of in folklore or ancient traditions.

"We're heading to the Death Star station," he told her.

Fade's head tilted to one side; she could take many forms, but her preferred one was cat-like; her large, light-lavender eyes dubious.

_You believe our search for clues will be fruitful there?_

"We're going to rescue Princess Leia of Alderaan."

_But that's not the only reason we're going. We learned that Jedi are being transferred from their various high-security prisons across the galaxy and sent to the Death Star for better security. _

Her telepathic voice was soft and melodious in his mind; she could speak verbally, but her 'default' form was spectral; even as she 'sat' in the seat beside him as they left _Home One's_ hanger and swooped into the vast blackness of space, Fade's from was translucent, made of lavender, swirling light a few shades darker than her brilliant eyes. Her body shimmered mutedly; just enough to be seen but not enough to distract or be very conspicuous. She twitched her tail, waiting for Luke to reply.

"General Bel-Iblis paid us to save the princess," he eventually answered, dark azure eyes fixed ahead, but his lips twisted in a smirk as he turned to his friend, "but…we're going to have a special today: buy a rescued princess…and get rescued Jedi, free of charge."

He grinned unrepentantly; Fade returned the grin; her eyes lit with gleeful anticipation.

"It's going to be our greatest breakout yet, Fade."

_So…that was why you broke into all of those prisons over the last two years and freed those Jedi for little or no credits…you knew that if you did it enough, the Empire would respond by transferring them all to one place? _

"In the hopes of luring me into a trap, yes."

_And you plan to oblige them? _

"It would be rude of us not to."

Fade snickered at that, her eyes mischievous. _Touché. _

Luke punched in the coordinates a couple of his other…_freelancing_ 'colleagues' had acquired for him on the DS1's most recent location. The _Revenant _burst into the blooming silver lights of hyperspace.

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**A/N: **Ok, so I promise that more is coming on Fade, what she is, what she can do and how she plays into Luke's past and how they met. But, I wanted to get this uploaded today. So, bear with me, k? Plz leave a review and any questions you might have! Thx!


	5. Chapter 5: Bloodlines

**A/N: **Had a little free time today; and had the writer's bug get on me to upload this! OK, so a few questions got thrown at me, so here's the lowdown: as for Luke's helmet and suit, yep I'll be describing more, but gradually, what they look like and what they can do; don't worry they'll be both be really cool. There will be lots more explanation on what became of the pirates that took Luke, how he became Spector and all this; but again, gradually in future in chapters. I take cues from the plot on when it's a good time to delve into those things; I don't like to burden my stories in the beginning with laundry lists of description. My stories are plot driven; details fill in the blanks at appropriate times/places. So, I just ask that you plz continue to awesomely bear with me on this; but I do promise all questions will be answered, k? So, here we go! Onward! **BTW, thanks for all the GREAT feedback!

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_SW Ep. IV: The Dark Assassin Ch. 5- Bloodlines _

Luke always enjoyed their time in hyperspace. It was the perfect reprieve from…business, distractions…_life_ in general.

It was the quiet lull before the next storm came to beat and hammer against his resilience.

It was the oasis where he could meditate, reflect, center himself and re-address all of the myriads of paths open to him. He was the Spector; at his command were the ridiculous amounts of wealth he had gained from his years of assassin work, total freedom and virtually endless resources via his plethora of connections, 'in's' and such.

He could do essentially whatever he wanted; who was there to tell him he couldn't?

Yet; this abundance of…_everything's_ didn't make his life easier; his path smoother.

No; it made everything more complicated, more confusing; the more options meant the more time invested in mulling them over before deciding. A path once tread could not be retracted from, he had discovered. So, he had learned to step with the utmost caution.

He knew men, who would happily retire at his age, find a utopic resort world, buy a palatial manor and live happily ever after in total comfort and bliss.

Not him; comfort wasn't part of his goal. Bliss was; but only inasmuch as he was able to uncover the answers he sought. Once his quest was finished; _then_ he would be happy.

He took in the sleek, silvery-paneled cockpit where he sat; Fade in the copilot chair, staring out into the platinum riot that was hyperspace. Who knew where her thoughts lie; her life was no more simplistic than his own—they had that…amongst other things, in common.

He let out an inaudible sigh; let one hand sweep over the control board of the ship that had once been…his mother's.

And indeed; it was. The J-Type Nubian skiff he had discovered years ago while on Naboo…searching for his family. He had traced the serial number of Senator Amidala's ship to a junkyard where it had been disposed of after sitting in a museum for several years. The museum had been attacked by a mob of outlanders that blamed the late Senator for helping Palpatine gain the Chancellor-ship and thereby put him on track to eventually becoming _Emperor_. Her ship, as well as many other of her possessions, had been destroyed; the museum reluctantly deemed the skiff un-salvageable; and therefore sent it to the dump to rot.

He bristled at the memory; he had traveled to Naboo at age 13, after discovering the identities of his mother and father, he had known at once it was destiny for him to come across his mother's skiff when he had ventured to the museum to be near mementos of her, only to be told of the mob by the curator. He bought its remains on the spot, shocking the junk dealer. He smirked, recollecting the man's stunned reaction:

"_Boy! Yeah, you! What are you doing around here! Get home before your parents wonder where you went! This isn't a playground!"_

The poor man nearly fainted when Luke walked up to him with the credits to more than pay for the ship and announced he'd have 'liaisons' pick it up tomorrow. The man checked the credits five times to ensure they were legit before agreeing…eyeing Luke with wary curiosity all the while.

He had eventually figured out that Luke was an off-worlder, seeing through his flawless accent and impeccably native dress and mannerisms. As Luke left with the deed of purchase, he caught the dealer give him a sympathetic look, no doubt realizing that there were no parents wondering where he was.

He quietly visited his mother's mausoleum that evening, bringing her several expensive bouquets and spending the night talking to her. He thought back on the words he had spoken, not regretting anything he said to her, or the tears he had wept, knowing he'd never hear her say his name, or smile at him…or see her ship now fighting the tyranny of the Empire, retro-fitted with the latest and most incredible of…_everything_.

He knew she had pacifist leanings; but he also had learned she stood up against evil.

He felt she would have approved of her ship's newfound purpose.

At least through her skiff, she was ever with him; he took solace in that. He recalled drying his eyes and rising, shutting off the electro-barrier that walled her still, alabaster form off from the rest of the world. She remained still in her open casket, her cobalt gown glittering in the moonlight that peeked through the open windows of her resting place. He bent over her head and kissed her chill brow, whispering he loved her…and then felt it:

The Force.

It stirred around him, pulling his attention to the strange object in her hands. It was an amulet of some kind, carved from a japor snippet, and strung on a glittering bead chain. He touched it…and felt his father's presence entwined around it, and the powerful glow of love infused in the snippet that was gifted to his mother—

From his father.

_Take it; it will guide you to your father, _the Force whispered in his mind, in his spirit.

Luke hesitated; he had not located his father…his searches had been futile up until that point. But…could he take this present that was meant for _his mother?_ Would she have agreed to it were she alive? He gazed wonderingly down at her beautiful face, so serene and peaceful.

He saw such kindness, such compassion…yes, she would have wanted him to; he felt it as surely as he felt the Force surging within his blood.

_Mother, I'll return it after I find father; and I'll bring him here with me…I promise._ He carefully unwound the amulet from her delicate fingers and kissed her folded hands before resetting the electro-field around her. He heard steps suddenly and voices just outside the double-doors in the next room—

_Blast it! Sloppy! To be _ever_ caught off guard!_ He berated himself. The assassin-maxims came back to him in a rush: _emotions compromise the job; emotional involvement is the beginning of an assassin's end; never think with anything but your head, or you'll lose it._ And so on.

There were no shortage of warnings for assassins about emotions; how they blinded, imperiled…and always lead to _death_ in the end. The Assassin's Bane, they were called.

But, he dared fate. He was _the Spector_…and if he wanted to love his deceased mother…he bared his teeth and fate and dared it to do _anything_ to him in retribution.

So far, fate had kept a safe distance.

He quietly ducked into a far corner and was grateful he had come wearing his assassin's suit beneath his large, hooded cloak. He melted into the shadows, and pulled his helmet on. A tiny 'click' told him the helmet had secured itself to his suit. He slowed his heart rate and breathing to thwart any sensor scans. His suit was programmed to respond to certain gestures and motions of his…which he did, activating key abilities of his suit…including the holographic camouflage feature.

His suit's many nano-projectors read the information of his surroundings…fed it into the many computers woven into his black suit…and fed them back out via a mosaic of holograms.

He was invisible a moment later.

He watched as three people entered the mausoleum's main chamber a moment later: an older man and woman with a woman who looked a little younger than middle aged. The older woman and other looked similar…so he assumed them to be mother and daughter. It was a safe assumption then, that the man was the younger woman's father…and elder's husband.

The older woman, who had very elegant features, also had fabulous observation skills it seemed.

"Ruwee! Oh, by the stars!" She ran to Padme's casket and her hands covered her mouth in dismay.

The man (named Ruwee, it seemed) and other woman were instantly at her either side.

"Mother, nothing's wrong," the younger woman soothed, "See? Padme's fine."

"Sola, look at her hands," the older woman wailed.

'Sola's' body stilled and Luke watched the color drain from her face. "The necklace…it's gone."

"Yes," the older said, beginning to weep, "oh, my poor baby, robbed…_robbed_ in death." She started to sob loudly.

The man shook his head. "I don't believe it," he whispered, his voice empty, "but how? How did they get past the security programs? They're only supposed to respond to security and family."

"None of us would take it," Sola emphatically replied.

"Well, of course, Sola…that only leaves the guards…but _surely_ none of them—"

"I'll have Pooja talk to the Queen tomorrow," Sola told them, holding her mother by the shoulders, "mom; please don't worry. I'm sure there must be some explanation."

Her mother nodded her body shivering as she wept.

Luke felt his throat close. So…these were his family then; he suddenly felt dizzy…he'd never _encountered_ any of his relatives before. These were his grandparents…and aunt. He was frozen, overwhelmed by the weight of the moment as he etched every detail of them into his memory, realizing suddenly, his hunger for connection…to _someone_.

"Jobal," Ruwee whispered at length, taking her arms and gently pulling her, "we should go; let Sola talk to Pooja. She'll find out what happened. It'll be all right." His tone was soft and comforting; his one hand rubbed her back consolingly, but his own eyes were wet.

He must be a kind man, Luke intuited; he could picture his mother acting much the same.

His stomach wound in knots; it was so, so tempting at that moment to come out of the shadows and reveal himself to them. He bit his lip; guilt washing over him.

He had caused his grandmother's grief; but…the Force had told him to take it. Was it wrong?

No; the Force had never led him astray before…but that didn't make the sound of her weeping any easier to bear.

Part of him wanted to step forward; but his legs were frozen, unwilling to listen to his…emotions yelling at him that: _They're family! Go to them! _

_It would comfort them so much to see their Padme's son alive._

He flinched at that. Pain lanced through him.

But…he couldn't. Not until he had completed the other half of his quest. He had no delusions; if he went to them now, they'd welcome him into their family…and that would make it all the harder, more unbearable to _leave them_ to finish his self-made mission.

The first half had been to find his mother…that he had done. As agonizing as it was that she was dead…that he'd never know her, at least he _knew_. There was closure. It was _something_…however small.

But, that still left his father.

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Luke sighed, coming out of his ruminations and rubbing his temples. The harsh truth was the entire galaxy seemed determined to ensure he never found his father…not even a _trace_ of him.

It was years ago, when he first felt the Force. It had been entirely by accident that he had used it the first time…saving the life of his then owner, a woman named Takaida Mulendi. After escaping to freedom, he had eventually met the first people in his 'network' of connections: Link and Mouse. No two greater hackers existed anywhere in this or any galaxy, Luke had no doubt. They were easily enlisted, with the right amount of money and…perks, to hack into the Jedi Temple records for him. Deduction had told him if he had the Force, one of his parents _must_ have been a Jedi.

Or so he desperately hoped; as it was the only solid lead he had.

Well, after Link and Mouse had…borrowed the genetic records of every Force-user known, it was simply a matter of testing Luke's blood against the database of Force-sensitives known in the galaxy.

One came back positive: the Hero Without Fear; _Anakin Skywalker_: the Clone Wars icon.

The test _proved_ that Anakin and Luke's blood were so similar, they were no doubt…father and son.

Mouse had paled, and stuffed snacks blankly into his mouth the stave off the shock…Link had spun around in his hover-swivel chair yelling at the top of his voice:

"Holy comets! He's your _father_!? The Hero without Fear is _your father_!?"

And of course the litany continued until Luke soberly thanked them for their hard work, paid them a huge bonus…plus more to stay quiet—which Mouse sputtered against his snacks and snapped back to himself; waving off the bonus-bonus with: "No, we're not blabbers; you don't need to pay us for that."—and finally cuffed Link on the back of the head to shut up.

"Boy-o; _seriously_!? How are you taking this so calmly?!"

The fact was, Luke hadn't been taking it calmly; on the outside, he had worn a deadpan expression, his tone of voice no better…but everything was happening within.

The shock, the dumbfounding revelation…there was no explosion of reaction, but an _implosion_.

He hadn't slept for several nights after that. It had been through rumors and whispering he had heard through…_other avenues_, that he'd discovered the secret wedding between his father and Senator Padme Amidala, who a second blood test later concluded she had been his mother. Apparently, many security protocols on Coruscant require regular blood testing of the Senators to prevent chemical mind suppression attempts, as well as slow-acting poisons, imposters and a plethora of other concerns.

'Imperial Center' retained information on retired/deceased/etc. Senators as well; which was had been…terribly convenient.

As Link and Mouse have all of the Imperial Databases figured out; and made it somehow look easy too….

There was some closure for Luke at that point; he knew who he was, and who his parents were.

He was Luke Skywalker, son of Padme Amidala Skywalker: Princess, Queen and Senator; and Anakin Skywalker: Jedi Knight, Hero of the Clone Wars and—

Had disappeared without a trace.

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**A/N: **I'm ending this chapter here because I don't want to overload everybody with too much info…a lot of material is covered here. A couple points I only touched on because they'll be addressed more in later chapters. Plz comment in your review with any ?'s you might have…I just want my bases covered. K? Fab. Leave a detailed review plz, so I know how I'm doing and have a great night!


	6. Chapter 6: Vanished

**A/N:** OK, back to back today! Plz don't forget to review! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 6- Vanished _

Without a trace—

That was how Luke's father had seemingly vanished from the face of the universe.

According to Imperial records, Anakin Skywalker had been seen battling in the final conflicts during the Clone Wars…had been appointed to the Jedi Council by the Chancellor himself…and then, after Order 66 had been carried out following the supposed Jedi Uprising…Anakin had disappeared.

Gone—without a trace.

Link and Mouse had argued that _of course_, his father had been killed with the other Jedi…and Luke had begun to reluctantly agree…but—

The Force kept nagging at him…no, that hadn't happened.

Officially, the Temple recorded Anakin Skywalker as 'deceased,' but the breakthrough had happened when Link and Mouse had run the death record against others made at a similar time—

Anakin's had been falsified; fabricated almost 6 years after his supposed death. It had been enough to convince Luke—

His father was out there; he was _still alive_.

The Force had been right; Anakin wasn't dead.

But; that left the more troubling question of: where was he?!

If he wasn't dead…had he joined the Jedi Underground? Or the Rebellion perhaps? Or had the grief of losing his wife been too much? Had he gone into exile; forsaking the galaxy to mourn?

No one knew; every lead Luke had chased down, no matter how promising at first…had come up empty.

Of course, his missing father tied into the other mystery of how had his mother died. Ostensibly, she had been betrayed and murdered by the Jedi during the uprising against Palpatine. But, Luke didn't buy it; the last time his mother had been seen was by her Chief of Security, Captain Typho. Documents containing Typho's statement about Padme Amidala's last appearance 'borrowed' by Link and Mouse said that she had some "personal business" to attend to immediately after the war ended. She took her skiff to places unknown only with her droid… and the next time she was seen, she was dead.

The reports of her death and burial on Naboo stated that an unidentified Jedi had brought Amidala and her skiff back to Naboo, where her family hastily laid her to rest.

Nothing more was ever said…or investigated-at least that Link and Mouse could ever track down.

Of course, rumors abounded; but the rumors had led nowhere as well; so Luke was always forced back to square one, leaving two tormenting questions unanswered: _where_ was his father? And _how_ had his mother died?

Until those two enigmas were resolved to his satisfaction, the Spector would continue to haunt the galaxy, seeking and searching.

_Your thoughts plague you,_ Fade observed, breaking him out of his reveries.

Luke shook his head to clear it, his blonde hair flapping back and forth. "I…I know," he admitted, "I just wish we had more leads; I'm running out of avenues."

_You mean about your parents; your search?_

"Yes; life in general is the typical Alderaanian oyster…but that's not what I want."

_You crave truth; explanations._

"Yes." Luke smirked; her phrasing had not been a question.

_Have faith, young one; surely the Jedi imprisoned on this great terror will offer details aiding your quest. _

Luke nodded his expression sober. He kept trying to convince himself that these Jedi were not his last hope…but…that nagging feeling was hounding him again. He sighed, needing suddenly distraction.

"I'm going to check over my equipment. Keep check up here, ok?"

Fade nodded. _Perhaps it would be beneficial to have a liaison work with us? These Imperials _are_ expecting you to infiltrate their star of death. _

Luke grinned, feeling the fire of a good challenge kindle in his veins. "I'd be insulted if they didn't, Fade. They're transferring the Jedi because of us—"

_You mean 'you.'_

"_Us_," Luke iterated, "to this station because they think—rightly—that a mobile prison will be harder to breech. But…because we already broke into all of their other 'impenetrable' prisons…we've really left them no other recourse, now have we?" he snickered; some of those prison breaks were amongst his greatest exploits to date. And he'd made most of his credits off of _bets_ that he'd never get in and out those places alive.

A lot of people—crime-lords and such—had gone bankrupt after losing; and many had gone _dead_ after refusing to pay up.

But, the others had taken it like men: they'd put a price out on his head…except no bounty hunter was insane enough to hunt the Spector. Even Boba Fett, by and far the greatest bounty hunter _in history_ had a begrudging respect. Over the years Fett and Spector had come to a…professional understanding to not interfere in each other's work. And, so far, they had managed to do so.

But, Luke had a certain friend he worried for; a friend who might be in Fett's cross-hairs before too long. Luke sighed; it was always _something_ with this friend—and colleague- too.

He was like a black hole, always drawing trouble into himself, around himself…well, everywhere pertaining to _himself_. It seemed that that and flying were his greatest talents….

It was little wonder the man was such an incorrigible cynic….

_What you do think, young friend? _Fade asked, shattering his concentration anew.

Luke smiled self-depreciatingly. "I'm thinking _too much_, I suppose," he sighed and rubbed his brow, "I was considering Ghost. She might want a portion of this."

Ghost had been a very long time occasional-partner of his. Some of the most lucrative work he'd done, he'd split the profit—and job—with her. She had an array of talents that rivaled—and complimented-his own; but, he also knew she was working deep, deep cover right now and Luke didn't want to jeopardize that.

She was acting as a covert operative…in _Imperial Court_.

But, another person might want in on this…and get out of those impending cross-hairs of Fett's.

"You know," Luke said with a smile, imagining his friend's impending reaction, "we should make a call. Take us out of hyperspace."

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Obi-Wan had lived long enough to learn to trust the Force without question.

So, when he drove himself and the two droids towards the settlements, he didn't hesitate when the Force directed him to Mos Eisley spaceport.

"Most of the best pilots are to be found here," he said to Threepio's alarmed reaction. "But, watch your step; this place can be a little rough."

"Oh my," was all the droid said in reply.

And when the Force told him to walk bold as a krayt dragon into the seediest cantina in town, he did so; directing the droids first to stay in a rented room nearby until he was through—with the door locked.

And when he strode casually into said seedy bar…he didn't hesitate when the Force guided him to the…gentleman whom he was supposed to negotiate with.

Said gentleman was a 7'6'' Wookie who called himself Chewbacca.

It was in that moment he was thankful Yoda had taken the time to teach him how to understand Wookie-speak.

Chewbacca, after hearing Obi-Wan's request and looking the Jedi over, nodded in the direction of his captain. The man sat at a small round table in a nearby corner. He was average height and build, but the lazy way he sat and the detached, jaded way he took in the bar…Obi-Wan held in the sigh.

This captain would prove…_interesting_ no doubt.

But, he didn't hesitate as Chewbacca—and the Force—led him to the captain.

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This captain apparently didn't believe in wasting time.

"Han Solo," he said, pointing to himself and readjusting his body to get more comfortable. "Chewie hear tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system."

"Yes, indeed; if it's a fast ship." The Force howled in his mind that time was slipping away—quickly.

Solo raised an eyebrow; either incredulous, or offended—or both. "'Fast ship'?"

And then Ben had to sit there politely and listen to Solo's exposé on how wonderful and stellar his ship, the _Millennium Falcon_ was.

_Well, if the ship's as fast as he's boasting, we ought to do well, _the Jedi mused as Solo finished.

"Ten thousand, all in advance." It wasn't a negotiation.

Ben forced his posture to not tense. He hardly had that amount, even if he sold his speeder.

"I can offer you three thousand now—" his eyes narrowed at Solo's body tense, preparing to refuse, "plus _fifteen_, when we reach Alderaan."

Bail would pay it; Obi-Wan had no doubt of that. They were old friends…and it was Leia's droid.

Solo looked thrown. "Seventeen?"

Ben somberly nodded, his gaze unwavering…to show he was telling the truth. Han paused a moment, then:

"Okay, you've got yourself a ship. Meet me at docking bay 94."

"94," Ben repeated, and made to rise. The Force rippled in warning though, as he did. In his peripherals, stormtroopers entered the cantina.

Why? There had been no disturbance. Then it hit him: Vader must have realized that Leia had sent the plans with her droids planet side; ergo the troopers were here to locate them.

Ben nodded to Solo, saying he'd be there; and discreetly left the bar through the back door, using the Force to keep all eyes off of him.

He meandered a bit for a few minutes before gradually making his way back to Artoo and Threepio.

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"Seventeen thousand," Han repeated to Chewie in amazement after the old man left, "he must really be desperate," he rose and his copilot did the same, "this could really save my neck. Get back to the ship and get 'er ready."

But, even as Han headed for the counter to pay his and Chewie's bill…he was intercepted.

The…'confrontation' didn't last long though.

"Sorry about the mess," Han matter-of-factly told the bartender as he flipped him some credits and ambled out the door.

No one seemed to care…the bartender least of all…but, as Han headed for 94, a cloaked Imperial spy lurked in a shadowy overhang; having seen all of it.

He whispered into his comm and then re-traced the old man he had pretended to lose track of several minutes ago.

With a nose as long as his…he never lost anyone's scent.

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Ben, after collecting the droids and selling his speeder—which he got exactly three thousand for; without use of the Force for that matter—headed for docking bay 94.

He was moving as fast as the droids could keep up with…someone was following him.

And they were good too; no matter how many tricks he'd tried—Force or no—their…pursuer, always managed to keep up.

Well; some species were Force impervious—Hutts, for example.

He resolved to simply get to Solo's ship, and fast.

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Han wasn't having a good day after all.

When he agreed to take the old man and his droids to Alderaan, he'd assumed it would be a nice, easy charter. His lucky day….

Then he ran into Greedo on his way out of the bar. Still, it was an…_okay_ day.

Then…_Jabba_ was waiting at his ship when he reached 94—and several _bounty hunters_ were with him; having decided to tag along for…moral support, no doubt.

All right; it was still a…_mediocre_ day.

But…then he saw _Fett _standing to one side of the group.

Now, it was officially a _bad_ day.

Han blew out a sigh as he plopped down in the pilot's seat after he had persuaded Jabba to give him one more chance. He patted the console. As long as he had Chewie and the _Falcon,_ everything was gonna be all right.

His comm beeped; he flipped it on.

"Han?"

Han nearly fell out of his seat in shock. "_Spek!?_ Buddy! How're ya doin'?"

OK; maybe it would still be a good day after all.

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"I think," Luke said flatly," the better question is: how are _you_?"

Han repressed a sigh; damn that kid and his creepy intuition. How did he always know!?

Kid was on the blasted other side of the freaking galaxy and he still always knew! It was supernatural; that was the only explanation.

"Okay, so don't go all mother-bantha on me or anything; all right kid?" Han said, raising a placating hand towards the comm—though Spek could probably see it anyways, with that…_creepiness_ of his. "I've got it all taken care of."

"You paid off Jabba?" his tone was too knowing. Blast it all to Kessel, anyways.

"No," Han hedged, "but, I've got this charter—"

"Han," Spek broke in, his voice hard, "I know you got boarded; ok? I know that you had to drop the spice shipment and now Jabba wants compensation. You owe him, what? Twelve thousand credits? You think _one charter's_ going to pay that off?!"

Chewie sniffed the air, catching the scent of something; he got up and made for the ramp to check it out. Han paid it no mind; Chewie would take care of it.

"Look, kid, don't worry about it; this old man's gonna pay me big to take him off world."

"Well_, that_ I believe; anybody would 'pay big' to get off Tatooine-anybody with sense anyways." _His voice was drier than the Dune Sea_, Han mused, chuckling.

A pause. "So? How much is he paying you?"

Han waited a moment—for effect. Oh; how he wished he could _see_ the kid's reaction. "Seventeen thousand," he slowly avowed.

Silence. Then: "_What!?_ Who _is_ this guy!?"

Han shrugged; started pre-flight check. "Don't know. Some old man who wandered into the bar."

"What," Spector flatly countered, his voice deadpan, "you're taking some random homeless guy on a trip on the _word_ that he's gonna pay you this money? How do you _know_ he can pay? Did you _see_ the credits?"

Han rolled his eyes; this kid sometimes…. "And you tell me _I'm_ too cynical kid."

"Well, how do you _know_?! He could just be playing you."

Han shook his head; no, he had his own instinct and it told him that the old man was being straight with him—aboveboard; no tricks.

And, Han had seen _the lightsaber_. The old man had kept it concealed behind his cloak; but Han had caught a tiny glimmer of it as the man had approached Chewie.

And, Han trusted Chewie's instincts; that's why all patrons talk to Chewbacca first, then if Chewie approves of them…he takes them to Han.

And, the Wookie had immediately taken to the old man; probably in part because he'd been so nice to him.

Few people just walked up to Chewbacca; fewer were _genuinely_ nice to him.

_Fearful_ and _nice_ didn't mean the same thing; after all.

Han had been a kid during the Clone Wars; he recognized the robe and lightsaber.

A Jedi; the old man was a Jedi…in hiding to be sure, but a Jedi regardless.

And, if Jedi were anything, they were honorable. If one said they'd pay a fee; well, then they did. Period. Stop. No discussion.

That meant his credits to pay off Jabba were secure.

"Han, I don't know about this," Spector insisted.

But, as Han opened his mouth to tell the Spek to stop worrying…blaster fire erupted outside, followed by shouts of a prissy voice Han didn't recognize and the pounding of feet running.

"Han? Han? What's the matter?" Spek asked, his voice worried.

"Chewie! Chewie!" Han yelled, getting up and pulling out his blaster.

Even as Spek continued shouting over the comm if things were okay, Chewbacca ran into the cockpit and pulled the controls for lift-off.

_Stormtroopers, outside, _he harned to Solo; _we were followed. I think they're after the Jedi. _

So, Chewie had picked up on it too; but of course he did…he had fought alongside his father in the Clone Wars.

But, Spek heard Chewie too. "Jedi? There's a _Jedi_ in your ship?" Another pause. "He's the 'old man' you're flying to..._where_ again?"

And, of course, the old man decided to enter the cockpit at that exact moment.

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**A/N: **Well, that's it for now; hope you enjoyed. Plz review!


	7. Chapter 7: Manuevers

**A/N:** Whoa, 1,874 readers to date. Dang! I'm sooo stoked; all I can say is: THANKS! Also, due to nearly suffocating under my homework, yes I had wanted to update long before now; so, sorry, but thx for being patient. Only had a 'guest' ask if Ghost is going to be Mara; answer: nope. Like I said before, she will have a part in this storyline I'm working on. I already have the full storyboard done for episode IV, and episode V, which will come out right after this fic, is done. So, plz bear with me, Mara fans. She's gonna be in this and she's gonna be awesome…but she won't be Ghost. K? Cool; so here we go! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 7—Maneuvers _

Han had to shut out Luke's shouting demands of "what's going on?" as he yelled at everyone to get strapped in so he could perform the fastest lift-off in history.

"No time for pre-flight check Chewie," he said loudly over the _Falcon_'s engines roaring to life.

Chewie harned back he'd assumed as much and yanked on the controls.

The _Falcon_ practically leapt from its open-ceilinged docking bay and into Tatooine's cloudless skies.

Han was so busy basking in relief that they'd evaded Imperial forces—again—that he didn't immediately realize that the old man was still in the cockpit—and _talking to Spek_.

"How…how did you know my name?" he realized he heard Luke asking the Jedi.

"Your father was my closest friend," the Jedi amiably replied, "Luke…you have _no idea_ how wonderful it is for me to hear your voice. _Thank the Force_ you're alive."

There was silence on Spek's end for a moment. Then: "You were my father's friend?"

"Yes; his wife…well, it's far too much to explain to you now," Ben said, putting his head down, and Han thought something…_burdened_ overshadowed the old man, "we must meet; we're traveling to Alderaan—"

"Alderaan!?"

Obi-wan blinked. "Yes…were you heading there as well?"

Luke snickered. "Eventually; we have to make a stop…at the Empire's new battle-station. You see, Bail's daughter's been taken prisoner by the Empire—"

"And they have her there?"

"Yes; but only for now." Silence for a moment. "That, Han…is actually why I called you."

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Obi-Wan watched the captain lift his hands and pull back in his pilot's seat. "Whoa," he said, cutting Luke off, "what does this have to do with me?"

"You need money—"

"Not anymore kid; and I'm not getting blasted by the Empire over some princess."

"Han…"

"No way," Solo objected, ignoring a look from Chewbacca, "infiltrate a battle station to break out a rebel princess? Not worth it; I like keeping my body—and ship—in one piece, thank you. Insane-type breakouts are your exclusive sector, kid."

Chewie harned that they _should_ help; that Spector was their friend. Han unwillingly thought of how Spek had offered to kill Jabba so Han would be free from the inevitable price on his head…yeah, assassin or no, he was a loyal friend.

Han pushed away the onslaught of guilt feelings.

"I could persuade Bail to add more to your fee?" Obi-wan offered enticingly.

"There's not enough credits in this galaxy," the captain flatly proclaimed. "You can't spend credits if you're dead."

Something suddenly jarred the ship. Solos checked his scanners.

"Great," he mumbled and his hands were suddenly all over the controls. "Imperial destroyers…two of them-coming up fast."

"Well," Luke put in, "you know some maneuvers, lose them."

"Quiet kid; you're lucky you're not here…or you'd be floating home."

Luke only laughed. "If you need some _suggestions_ Han," he snarked—

The ship jarred again as one of the pursuing ships scored a hit.

"Chewie, check the deflector shield."

"How long until you can make the jump to hyperspace?" Kenobi asked.

"I'll need a few moments to get the coordinates from the navi-computer," Solo distractedly replied.

Obi-wan sighed. This was hardly how he imagined finding Anakin's son again…but at least Luke was alive.

"Luke, we have a great deal to discuss when we meet on Alderaan."

"I agree," was the deadpan response, "Han, I'm almost to the battle-station; just drop the Jedi off on Alderaan; I'll meet up with you with the princess later on."

"Luke," Obi-Wan urged, "please be careful—"

"I always am—"

Han sputtered sarcastically. "Really? When?"

Ben ignored him. "And may the Force be with you."

Luke cut the connection.

Ben let the full impact of what just transpired soak into him. It felt like absorbing a deluge, a hurricane even…but at long last, there was closure.

Luke was alive; and he was apparently all right.

Some part of Ben's mind registered the fact that Solo threw the ship into hyperspace. Ergo, they were safe…for the time being.

"So…." He heard the captain say after they were in the clear, "you were friends with Spek's father?"

Ben nodded. "He was like my brother; he was my apprentice when he was a child. He…he never got to see his son though."

He stared at the swirling lights of hyperspace as he heard the captain sigh—he thought in sympathy. "Yeah; war does that," he emotionlessly said.

Ben looked soberly over at the captain. If Luke was close friends with this rogue smuggler, then it was safe to assume that Anakin's child didn't grow up…respectable. He had admitted casually about being en route to infiltrate and liberate Princess Leia from the new secret station…and had offered Solo a chance to join in—no doubt for profit.

That meant Luke had become some sort of mercenary? A spy, perhaps?

Something about that didn't feel exactly right. Thankfully; answers were now sitting beside him, telling his co-pilot they should kick back for a while and leave the ship on auto.

"Captain," Obi-Wan said as he heard the conversation die down, "may I ask a favor of you?"

"You wanna know what happened to your Jedi friend's kid, what he became in life?"

Well; the captain, cynical and jaded or not, was sharp.

"If you would be so kind."

The captain laughed at that. "Of all the things I am, 'kind' I doubt is at the top of the list." He lazily got up, stretched and put an arm around Kenobi. "But…Chewie likes you, so I'm with him. I say, we head to the lounge, I'll beat Chewie at Sabbacc while I tell you about your buddy's kid; sound fair?"

Ben could only smile at his laid-back arrogance. Behind him, the Wookie rose to his imposing height and wuffed at the captain, '_I might_ let _you win, but only if you cook this time_.'

Solo laughed again. Obi-Wan shook his head; their back and forth banter was so reminiscent of him and Anakin.

His stomach twisted at the memories. Why did it always feel like only _yesterday_ that he and Anakin were debating whether or not that business on Cato Nemoidia counted?

But no; he accepted the pain and let the emotions run their course. He had made his choices, chosen his path; he and Anakin both. He had to accept, trust the Force and move on.

Especially now that Luke had been brought back into his life; even if Luke only possessed a fraction of Anakin's power, he would need guidance and tutelage.

He let Solo guide him to said lounge, where the droids no doubt were; his Wookie friend trailing close behind, offering hints to Solo about what he'd like for dinner.

"I'll tell you what, gentlemen," Kenobi put in as Solo told Chewie he could just open a couple packets of beans if he was hungry, "I'll cook; do you like Bruallki stew?"

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**A/N: **Well, kiddos, that's it for now; I work tomorrow and go to the doc; so gotta get some shut-eye. Anyways, I hope you enjoy; plz review…and more will come soon! Promise Have a good one!


	8. Chapter 8: Forged in Shadow

**A/N: **Ok, so firstly folks, I'm uber feelin' the love that this fic is getting so far…and I just wanna say: a billion thanks. I know it's been coming together kinda slow…I've got homework, life plus two other fanfics that are taking my time too; but I'm super appreciating all your patience and support while this fic comes to life.

I just want to quickly mention that the armor terminology in this fic will be from medieval sources, as it's the type I see most often in other SW fics plus the canon and EU. Also, I might pull this or that minor event out of the canon timeline for the sake of the story…but it will only be minor things and perhaps 3 tops in this fic. But, just so y'all know! K? FYI But, got no questions on the last chapter…so onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 7—Forged in Shadow_

Luke allowed his mind to wander a bit as he examined each part of his uniform. It kept his thoughts nimble and capable of focusing on many tasks at once—a valuable trait for assassins. Regardless, hyperspace was drawing them ever-nearer to this battle-station the Empire called: DS1, or the Death Star and he would ensure his suit was perfect for this newest quarry.

He never allowed his suit anything less than perfection; but, he was infiltrating an entirely new target—it was best to be extra cautious. '_You're either fully prepared for the job, or your funereal_,' a maxim said.

Assassins had a very pragmatic look at life; concise and realistic.

Luke often marveled at how dealing in the business of death made one so very appreciative of life—and its fragile, capricious state. He shook his head at the twisted irony of it, and forced his mind back to the job.

'Death Star': it didn't take a neuro-imprinted genius to figure out its purpose. Link and Mouse discovered through Bothan liaisons who worked also with the Alliance that this monstrosity was created for a sole objective: crush any worlds from even _considering_ rebellion—through obliteration if necessary.

A planet destroyer; a super-weapon…an _abomination_.

Luke ground his teeth, fingering one of the lethal-looking vambraces attached to the forearm of his body armor.

A super-weapon crafted by power-deranged individuals madly lusting for absolute domination, by genocide if needed.

Oh, how familiar it all sounded.

But, he couldn't let his mind deviate any longer. Pushing the memories into the far recesses of his mind, Luke applied himself to inspecting every piece of weaponry, permitting a small smirk in gratification.

The newest additions to his uniform were completely undetectable to the naked eye; fantastic.

His suit was a marvel: one of a kind, even the much feared and respected Mandalorians had nothing rivaling it. Completely done in black, it was a hybrid fusion of mesh-weave and armor plating, with both mounted and concealed weaponry and tools on the forearms, shoulders, knees, boots and gloves; Link and Mouse had truly outdone themselves:

It was the culmination of nano-technology's most cutting edge advancements: a flawless melding granting him full maneuverability and freedom through the mesh-weave, plus all of the impenetrability of diamond-synth armor plate. The armor was able to move, reshape, create storage compartments and mend itself in many ways from battle. Its computer was linked up to _Revenant_, Link and Mouse's home base…and one other ally.

Luke grinned; it had cost him a fortune, but had been more than worth it. Plus, with the jobs he had accomplished over the years, nearly all falling under the category of "impossible," he had more than recovered the credits invested—several times over.

But, he had to agree with the Mandalorians' credo: _a warrior is more than his armor._

Calloused fingers roved over the durasteel/boron breastplate, actually comprised of many multi-shaped smaller plates (again, movement and protection), down to the torso where the plating became slightly longer and thinner barred.

He sensed no complications; glancing at the scanner beside him which was talking to his suit's own master-computer the screen's readouts also detected nothing awry; excellent.

As he reached for his synth boots, to check if the weapons concealed in sub-panels were fully functional, Luke wondered if Han would change his mind about the princess.

It was possible; Han wasn't as calloused or indifferent about those in trouble as he pretended.

Chewie was the walking proof of it. Han had broken him out of an Imperial slave camp, after being expelled from Carida, the Empire's illustrious training academy. Han had been an officer, but had made a mistake the Empire considered unpardonable:

He had dared to think for himself.

Luke grinned. Good old Han; always one trick ahead of the gamble, always one catastrophe ahead of well_, total_ catastrophe.

But, Han cared about people: Wookie, human, whatever. That's what being exploited and walked on your entire life did to a person.

Luke sighed; he knew that all too well. But, he worried about his scoundrel friend. Han seemed to always being spitting in the galaxy's eye, daring it to do its worst.

Jabba came to mind again; and Boba Fett. Luke felt his insides twist; the galaxy might be preparing to do its worst—that was the problem.

Luke had once offered to assassinate Jabba for Han. "Han, he can't get you killed if _he's_ dead," he had reasoned to the smuggler. Breaking into Jabba's palace would have taken next to no effort—killing a target the size of a Hutt even less.

But, Han had made him promise he wouldn't. He feared Jabba's death would trigger a crime war on Tatooine; and he reminded Luke if that happened, the Empire wouldn't waste time intervening until _Imperials_ were killed—civilians though? The Empire would only lament the decreased flow of tax credits—until they raised the taxes of the survivors anyhow.

Luke sighed in frustration. The fact was Han had been right.

He hadn't _told_ Han that of course; Han hardly needed anyone telling him he was right—for a change. Things like that tended to go to the pirate's head, every once and while.

Luke grinned; but, who was he to criticize? He chuckled. He confessed to himself Han's hidden compassion was a great deal of why they were friends; having heart was a dangerous—and therefore rare—trait in businesses like theirs: smuggling and assassinating. There were over 40 assassins' credos alone warning emotions were toxic; deadly always and a sweet poison:

"_Let your heart pump blood but never let it _beat_,"_ was one of the more famous doctrines.

Beating heart felt emotions…and _died_, taking you with it.

But, people like him and Han for some reason spit at the maxims, the warnings, and dared to have a beating heart. Granted, they only let their guards down for a very select few; like Chewie for instance. And Luke allowed some leeway with people like Ghost, Link and Mouse, and a few others, but Han and Chewie were the only ones he fully confided in—aside from Fade; but there was no harming a Force Ethereal.

They were among the very few who knew what he truly was; and what had made into the Spector.

With a tense sigh, he pushed his musings away. Unease was creeping into his flesh, anxiety spreading beneath his skin—why?

Was it the mission, or something else? He let himself delve only a trifle into his father's power for answers:

The Force.

It showed him a dark pool expanding throughout his inner vision.

Darkness: from the Empire, or someplace else?

The rot of death formed on his tongue; he grimaced.

He glanced down at the suit, wondering if he should take the ship out of hyperspace and probe further for the source.

The suit was ready; he pulled out some cleaning tools and gave it a once over, just in case. It would be his luck that a piece of micro-dust would clog some critical sensor at the worst moment and get him into trouble.

And he got into plenty of trouble just fine without any help, thank you very much.

The anxiety gnawed deeper into him, clean through to the bone; he heard a clanking sound in the back of the _Revenant_, like a tool falling.

Putting the his tools down with a 'thud,' he headed for the noise.

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"You know, you cool pretty well for a desert hermit," Han said mock flippantly over a mouthful of stew, "maybe you'd like to stay on as our cook?"

Kenobi laughed, spreading a bean dip over dark brown bread and dunking it into the stew. He had to admit that the captain's galley was a bit more fully stocked than he would have expected from a pair like them; but, he had lived long enough to not let appearances throw him off as they did in times past.

"Thank you, captain," the Jedi amiably returned, and Chewie harned how thrilled he was with the meal-while ladling his third helping of stew from the large kettle the Wookie had 'volunteered' to keep to his beside him.

"But, I don't know if I could maintain the expectations of your…enthusiastic copilot," he added with a small grin. Chewie only guffawed, taking it in the right spirit. He made some noises to Solo, basically confessing the captain would have to pay the Jedi very well.

Ah, so they did see the lightsaber then; he had assumed as much.

Kenobi didn't mind, either about that or the food; he had taken his fill and the captain wasn't complaining—he had made a point of cooking a _full _pot mainly for the copilot.

Wookies could eat after all; he had often joked to Anakin at meal times that he was probably part Wookie, considering his monolithic appetite.

He still recalled Anakin's good-natured laughter over the jabs. Ben wondered how much Luke had grown to resemble his father.

A chill wheedled through him.

Han looked up to probably deliver some witty comeback about lowering his fee in return for a set time as cook…but then noticed the sober expression on the other man's face.

"I suppose you want your price now," he said tonelessly instead.

Kenobi nodded. "His father was my dearest friend; I have to know what became of his son."

Solo nodded, seeming to understand, which Kenobi appreciated. Taking a swill from his cup, which was filled with some kind of fizzy drink, he smacked his lips and leaned back.

"There is one thing I want you to do before I start," the captain said firmly, but not unkindly, and Kenobi nodded that he was listening, "I want you to hear to the _whole thing_…and, I want you to talk to Spek before you draw any conclusions."

"It's that bad then." On some level, his subconscious whispered to expect this.

The Wookie woofed and shook his head and Solo's face lined somberly.

"No, that's my point," the captain retorted, "it will sound that way at first, but you'll understand only after you have all the facts."

"And you won't give me…'all the facts'?"

"I don't think I have the right to," and Kenobi was caught off guard by something passing over the captain's face.

Sadness? Mournfulness? That stew suddenly wasn't settling so well in his stomach.

"Spek isn't an evil kid," Solo began.

Kenobi sensed something underlying that name. "Yes, you called him that before," he quietly observed, "but you know his name is Luke. Did he ever tell you his last name?"

A shake of the head. "Said it was in my best interests to not know—I trust the kid's judgment. In his line of work, it's for the best."

Ben swallowed. His line of work. He braced himself and asked. "Why do you call him that then? It's more than just a nickname."

This time the captain nodded. "Yeah," he sighed and took another swig from his cup. "Spek is as big as one, he's just a kid, but not very big. He plays it to advantage though." He sighed again and leaned back, and Ben couldn't help but guess the captain was bracing himself as well. "And…," he added at length, "it's short for his…professional name."

Ben didn't ask, he only waited.

"His professional name is the Specter."

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When Luke swung open the storage compartment in the back of the Revenant, he wanted to smack himself for expecting anything else.

Or more accurately, anyone else.

Blasted intuition.

"Noc," he asked his friend, "what are you doing?"

Of course, his friend couldn't speak Basic very well, so he only clucked his beak at him and used one clawed foot to lift the culprit:

Ah; he was updating part of the ship's spyware…Luke remembered asking him to do that now.

"Sorry," he said with a sheepish grin, and Noc only shook his feathered head at him in reply, mock-chiding, "for some reason, I feel…tense."

Suddenly, he took the software module from the bird and put it aside; scooping Noc onto his shoulder, he made his way back to the cockpit.

"Group meeting," he said to Fade as he reseated himself in the pilot's chair, Noc flapping his wings neatly to land himself on the armrest between Luke and Fade.

"Tell me you're feeling this to," Luke asked the purplish cat-shade.

_I do, there is a great convergence of evil drawing near to us, _the feline told them.

Luke sighed, glancing down at Noc—short for Nocturne.

Noc was his other 'accomplice' in their work. Noc was a genetically engineered creation: an experiment Luke rescued from a renegade laboratory many years ago. Scientists, hoping to create bio-weapons unlike anything the galaxy had ever seen before—and therefore would have no defense against—secretly began creating hybrid creatures in the hopes of using them to either subvert or overthrow the Empire, as well as all major governments and conquer a galaxy while the first pangs of rebellion were adding to the Imperial instability.

An enemy divided was an enemy defeated, after all.

But, Luke had destroyed the facility and liberated Nocturne, who had nowhere else to go and so remained with the assassin and joined in his life and work.

Noc was a fascinating creation: a falcon-like bird about the size of a Peregrine, with an azure/cobalt chest speckled with sapphire, and silver and dorsal feathers so navy they were nearly black. His bright cobalt eyes were slit vertically with black irises, with a tail nearly the length of his body. He had been known in the lab as: "Project Falconopteryx," also called "Objective: Nocturne."

His latter name was easily explained by his 'gift.' Noc was a cyber-hybrid: a flawless crossbreed of machine and organism, called by the facility: _technorganic_. Noc was a walking super-computer, far beyond anything the Empire or any other adepts had constructed. He was the formidable meeting of the greatest cyber-tronics, augmented further by the ultimate computer: the brain, or nuerogenics.

There was no electronic device safe from him; he could speak to any computer…and make it do essentially whatever he wanted.

Noc had proven invaluable on thousands of occasions. And thankfully, the scientists had taken the precaution of making Noc…durable. His organic parts were fully amplified by the most powerful natural and synthetic substances. His strength, speed and other abilities were enhanced to their fullest limits.

He was a vital ally—and trusted friend—to be sure.

_Do you wish us to leave hyperspace?_ Fade broke into his thoughts. _We could combine our powers to seek out this dark source._

Luke thought it over but shook his head. "No, I don't want us to chance it. We're too close to the Death Star."

_Our stealth shielding will conceal us from them._

Another shake of the head. "I know the odds are a million to one we'll be detected…but that still leaves one chance. I won't take it; this is too important a mission."

_Very well, young friend, shall we simply wait it out?_

"I don't see any other options." He glanced down at Noc, who shuffled his wings as if to agree, and preened a bit, saying he was ready to wait.

Luke sighed, and decided to not waste time and gear up.

About ten minutes later, as he was testing the equipment in his helmet, already covered in the remainder of his uniform, he heard the hyperspace notifier beeping.

_Friend, we are leaving hyperspace._

Luke clutched his sleek helmet and rushed to the cockpit. Gazing through the viewport there was a rush of white-silver light as they came out of hyperspace. The stars seemed to rush at them, then away, finally deciding to still and retake their normal celestial abodes.

There it was; easily the size of a small moon, the DS1.

Luke absorbed its unbelievable size, the easily millions of canon mounts and turrets, the ravines leading to who-knew-where…and the monolithic inverted dome—no doubt its main cannon.

The destroyer of worlds? Not on his chronometer.

With a centering breath, he donned his helmet, peering out at Noc and Fade through the shallow v-shaped eye-slit.

"Fade," he said, his voice now deeper and gravely, "find us a discreet bay to dock in. Put the ship in stealth-auto and you'll both be coming with me for infiltration."

_You _don't_ plan to just rescue the Alderaanian princess then. I thought so._

Luke grinned at them from behind his terrifying helmet. Han had once joked looking at him geared up was like looking at the Reaper himself. Luke had laughed and nearly choked on his bantha burger.

Han had no idea how close he had come to changing his name that day—just to see Solo's reaction.

And hear his demands for 'copyright shares,' gratuities and all of that.

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As Luke made to walk away, Fade stopped him.

_Friend, you should see this._

Luke turned. "What's wrong?" Oh great, that bad feeling was right on time.

_Our galactic coordinates._

"What about them? Where are we?"

_Alderaan. _

Luke felt his stomach fall into his boots.

"They're here to test the main cannon then. Get us to a docking bay, fast." He raced out with Noc close behind.

They had to stop the Empire, or Alderaan was going to be annihilated.

And Luke was pretty sure the Princess would be forced to watch.

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"The Rebel Alliance is too well equipped," High General Tagge bit out, growing very weary of having to remind everyone of the _obvious _over and over, "they're more dangerous than you realize."

He watched as the man sitting beside him, albeit with one open seat between them, smirked in condescension. Admiral Motti, Tagge knew, was always too confident.

Tagge knew better though, he had seen his own brother lose his eyes to Vader as punishment for underestimating the enemy; he'd never make the same mistake himself.

"Dangerous to your star fleet, Commander," was the smug retort, "_not_ this battle station."

Tagge wanted to wring the younger man's neck. Galactic stability was at stake here! Was he the only man who could see that? "The Rebellion will continue to gain support in the Imperial Senate until—"

"The Imperial Senate is no longer of any concern to us," came a cool, authoritative voice and everyone looked to the large doorway to see Governor Moff Tarkin stride in…with the Emperor's right hand close behind:

Darth Vader.

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Luke wasn't a man given over to fretting, but as he neared the landing ramp's lever and reached for it, he couldn't stop thinking about Han and Chewie—and their Jedi passenger.

They were on their way here. How could he warn them? Could he chance sending a signal?

No; if it were detected the Empire might be able to trace both the sender and receiver…and that wouldn't help anyone.

But, Luke reminded himself he'd never felt so anxious before. Why!? Where was it coming from.

And then, a very dark, very intense cold seemed to manifest all around him as he felt the ship slowing as they drew into some strange, insignificant hanger. Now, now he knew the source; it wasn't a something, but a someone.

Though, he was certain many out there would go with 'something.' Only one man could conjure such a grotesquely evil and painfully crushing presence.

_Darth Vader_.

He was _here_; on DS1.

And a Han was bringing _a Jedi_ here. Oh, no.

Luke pulled the lever even before the ship came to a full rest.

They had to move, and fast.

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**A/N: **Ok, lol, so for all of you out there anxious for chapter 8, here it is. And I made it extra-long to make up for not updating in a while. I'm happy to say that my homework for the next couple weeks is nearly done so I'll probably have more free time coming up to update more frequently. It it's any consolation, my Aladdin fanfic followers have been waiting for a while too; and my Avengers fanfic I haven't updated yet either But, plz enjoy and leave a review! We're getting to the action sequences soon….yay!


	9. Chapter 9: Death Star

**A/N: **

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 9- Death Star _

"….I just received word that the Emperor has dissolved the Council permanently," Tarkin imperiously said, settling into his chair while Vader came to stand beside him; the governor's intense eyes pierced every man present in turn as he concluded, "the last remnants of the Old Republic have been swept away."

"That's impossible," Tagge whispered in disbelief, "how will the Emperor maintain control without the bureaucracy?"

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As Tarkin began his exposé, his tone that of a seasoned professor lecturing his hapless class, Vader let his mind reach out to the detention level. Good; that infernal princess had been installed with their other high security prisoners.

He let himself grin, ignoring how it stretched the scar tissue on his face and seared him with pain. He withheld the hiss.

His entire life had become pain…thanks to the Jedi—thanks to Kenobi.

But, they all shared blame for all he had lost. But, his revenge had smothered _some_ of the pain that seared him daily; he had already hunted most of their wretched kind down and dealt out his vengeance, those now 'residing' in the lower levels would soon taste his wrath soon enough. The official Imperial memorandum stated that the 'top secret, high risk prisoners' being transported to the "new mobile prison," was for the public's own well-being and general safety. That was true enough; rogue Jedi found on any world placed that planet under immediate Imperial suspicion, few Jedi could remain anonymous for long; their pathetic hunger to interfere and cause instability was too rampant—like a disease.

The Jedi _were_ a disease; but Vader was the cure.

He grinned. Tonight would be an evening long remembered; the DS1 would be tested…after the christening ceremony of course.

The Death Star's inauguration would be carried out with Jedi blood.

Vader looked forward to it with relish.

His good mood was shattered though by Motti a few minutes later…but he corrected that.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing," he bluntly told the impudent man. Motti had grown up in a rich and privileged family; apparently it hadn't done him much good.

That was all right though; Vader wielded a cure for essentially all 'ills.'

One Force-choke later and Motti was 'cured' of his braggart mouth. Will wonders never cease?

After Tarkin ended the discussion with the declaration that the plans would be recovered and the rebellion destroyed with "one swift stroke," Vader moved to depart this pathetic display of arrogant brashness-when he detected the subtlest tingle in the Force. Immediately he reached for it.

Whatever it was, it was elusive; it slipped through his Force sense like smoke through fingers.

Interesting; he'd never felt anything quite like it. It's potency though, vaguely noticeable or not, was present.

He made for his meditation chamber. Smoke-like or not, he would track this strange phenomenon down.

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Luke instinctively found the darkest and most unused sections of the DS1 to move through. Noc rested on his shoulder, too light to be incumbent in any way; Fade floated behind them, her own form now almost completely invisible; she appeared to be a faint watermark of herself impressed in thin air, her purplish color almost totally washed away.

_The updated Force-concealers on your suit are functioning well friend,_ she informed him, _I can scarcely sense you at all; surely the dark lord will have great difficulty likewise. _

"I hope you're right, Fade," he whispered to her, trying to not be too relieved at the fact that the Jedi seem to be all imprisoned in one section of the station. It was foolish, to place them all together—

Foolish; _or a trap_—not that he had any cause to suspect a trap, mind you.

Luke had briefly considered trying to warn Kenobi through the Force of the battle-station's presence in Alderaan's astro-space, but with Vader aboard, it was impossible. Force-concealers or no, he couldn't risk detection by a full-fledged Sith Lord.

Luke would confess to himself, he had taken more than his share of suicidal chances in his short life. Han both praised and ridiculed him for it mercilessly; but it was true: Luke was no stranger to taking extravagant, even sure-death risks; but even this now, was different.

He had killed enough high-ranking Imperials, Underworld leaders, and so on to populate his own world; he had fought—and killed—his share of Sith Assassins, Sith Inquisitors, Sith Warriors and so on several times over.

But a Sith Lord? A full-blown _One of the Two_? No; they were in a class all their own, and far, far above any foe Luke had faced down before.

Fade had taught him much about how to use the light side of the Force and Luke had proven his own against adversaries who should have defeated him, but didn't. He was undefeated in all his years of battling and killing…and it wasn't because he only vied against weaker enemies.

The fact was he could count said 'weaker' quarries he had hunted over the years on one hand with fingers left over. As a principle, he didn't kill feebler targets—he had just been paid quintuple for the jobs those times; plus he couldn't stand the men anyways and was only too happy to rid the galaxy of their filth.

Noc tapped his arm with his pointed beak and waved a wing at the various control panels inset into the durasteel walls. It was a question.

Luke nodded. "Yeah, you may as well get to work. Come and find us when you're done."

Nocturne nodded and silently glided over to the nearest control board. Finding the jacks, he inserted his talons into them, 'plugging himself' into the computer, essentially. Luke watched as his shiny cobalt eyes became static-looking as information was being uploaded into him from the DS's main computer. It typically took Noc only seconds to take over a system.

"Keep in comm contact," he told the falcon, who nodded and ducked most of his body out of sight while he worked. Luke patted his head gently and found the nearest shadowy overhand, moving ahead.

_You will not deviate from this path? Even with the Sith Apprentice here?_

"No," Luke replied with resolve, "the princess needs saving, as do the Jedi. And there's no one else to do the job. Kenobi doesn't know the Jedi are here; he's probably heard the stray rumor or two, but that's not solid intel. And Han's not prepared for this."

_Is he ever prepared for anything?_

Luke couldn't resist the chuckle. "No; but he'd _ad lib_ and get him and Chewie into more trouble. No, it has to be us."

_You have another motive. _ Not a question.

"I do," Luke murmured gravely, "my father's still out there; and…one of these Jedi must know something. If I can save them, maybe one of them can tell me something about him; like how to find him or what happened to him after the Clone Wars ended."

_And it they can't? If you're wrong?_

"I won't let them be cut down in cold blood; without even a fighting chance."

Yes; hypocritical words from an assassin; Luke grimaced, chagrining himself, but surely even the daftest person could see a difference between a Jedi standing for freedom and justice versus an amoral criminal underlord- like Prince Xizor for example.

Luke snorted before he could stop himself. Xizor had solicited him for jobs hundreds of times…and Luke always turned him down flat; sickening person that he was, more so than the average Underworld kingpin even-if that was even imaginable.

He shook the thoughts away and commed Link and Mouse.

"Hey buddy," he heard Mouse say, and caught the sound of chewing. Luke swore they were always eating: eating, snarking and hacking—not necessarily in that order though.

"So," Link chimed in and with his voice came the plunking of keystrokes; well, at least one of them was working, "so, how do you like the Empire's new luxury hotel?"

Snickers came from both men.

"It's charming," Luke quipped, "especially the color scheme." It was so very Imperial; everything done in _white_: the walls, floors—even the stormtroopers. It was all so artificial and dead-looking.

Luke ought to know what looked dead, after all.

It was creepy; just plain creepy.

"What do you need, boss?" Mouse asked, a can of some beverage popping open in the background.

"Well, your full attention for starters," Luke dryly rebuked, "secondly, we're carrying out the breakout plan: for the Jedi and the princess. Noc's uploaded himself into their main computer, but I want the two of you to hack through him and get every last bit of vital intel you can. Whatever can help the Alliance and hurt the Empire."

"You mean put it on the Holonet?"

"If it'll hurt them, yes."

"They'll just take it down."

"Not soon enough."

"True; okay, we're on it."

Luke listened to the sound of clanking keys and the two professional hackers whispering to each other as he made his way to the Detention Center.

"Okay, boss, we're connecting to your suit as well; we'll measure through the sensors how the station operates and compare that against the schematics the rebels stole."

"You think their might be differences?"

"If the Empire has any brains at all? Yes. Someone had to have guessed those plans would be stolen. Our guess is they broke up the plans into pieces and the rebels only got a portion of them. It's the slyer approach; ergo, something the Empire would do."

Luke sighed in resignation. "Okay, point taken, it makes sense. How much have you gotten from Noc?"

A devious chuckle. "Oh; a lot. He's one stellar bird. These melloons even had some of their credit account info in the computer."

"Well, of course, even Imps need to get paid."

"No, I mean Tarkin and the other upper echelons."

Luke stopped. "Really?"

"Yep; you wanna us to get it? We _have_ earned a raise after all."

Luke licked his lips. Revenge could be oh, so sweet. "Go for it."

"Yes!" two voices softly exclaimed and Luke caught the clapping sound of a high-five.

"Uh, guys," he added at length, "you only get ten percent."

"What!?" the pair said.

"Where's the rest going?" Link sardonically added; in other words: to you?

"To the rebels," Luke replied with satisfaction.

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Vader felt another quiver in the Force; something was amiss, he could practically taste the electric brassiness of danger in his mouth.

What was it? Surely not the Jedi; he could easily deal with them when the moment came.

He ground his teeth; his revenge was not yet complete, not until two particular Jedi were impaled on his lightsaber:

Kenobi and Yoda.

His searches for them had turned up nothing. It resurrected his full rage whenever he though of those fruitless quests, years of hunting, chasing down the most minute leads…yet nothing.

He was convinced they weren't dead. Had either of them passed into the Force he would have sensed it; he had no doubt. He seethed, his respirator adjusting to his breath made ragged by fury.

Kenobi, who took his Angel from him; and Yoda, whom he had gone to for help to save her, but what had he said?

"_Rejoice for those who become one with the Force."_

Vader growled at the memory; she had died, 'become one with the Force,' as the elf had said—

But he had yet to feel like rejoicing.

And not only had he lost his Angel; but his child as well, his son or daughter, whom he had not even been able to hold, not even once.

Because of Kenobi and Yoda; because of the wretched Jedi and their vile, heartless rules:

"_A Jedi shall not know anger, or hated…or love."_

What a favor he was doing them, by ending their miserable, worthless lives.

There had been a vague rumor of a Jedi perhaps hiding on Tatooine, but the Inquisitors sent there had turned up nothing. The 'Jedi' had turned out to be some mad old hermit who lived in the Jundland Wastes.

Vader shook his head; those Inquisitors were worthless, all of them, which was why he hardly minded when a report reached him that the infamous Specter killed one of them.

Vader's musings were interrupted by an officer who entered his chambers.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"Lord Vader, the interrogators say they are ready for the Princess."

Vader rose to his full over-two-meter height. "Very well, I shall meet them at her cell."

"As you wish my lord."

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Leia paced her cell, unaccustomed to doing nothing. She prayed desperately that Artoo was able to track down Kenobi. She had given the faithful little droid the approximate location of Kenobi's desert hideaway. But, had the droid found the Jedi General?

She dearly hoped so.

She put her back to the nearest wall when she heard the cadence of boot-steps drawing near; her cell door whined as it scraped open.

Vader's infinitely dark outline filled the cell's narrow doorway; he had to duck his head to enter. His presence seemed to fill the tiny cell. She recoiled from him; she couldn't help it.

She was smart enough to know when she was helpless; and against a Sith Lord? She was.

The only sound for many ominous seconds was the raspy hiss of Vader's breathing, until a beeping drew her attention back to the doorway. Something followed Vader into the small room.

An interrogation droid; it was a euphemism.

Torture droid was closer to the truth.

Leia had heard the rumors about them, but hadn't let herself believe it. Even that Empire couldn't be….

A pit formed in her stomach; how very wrong she had been.

Vader let her take in the horror for several moments; especially as the syringe attached to one appendage was in clear sight; and the princess surely knew the nature of the mind-weakening drugs that filled the needle.

She paled, recoiling more. Her eyes filled with terror.

No, there was no 'diplomatic immunity' to save her now.

"And now, Your Highness," he began….

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Vader had been pulled from interrogating the insolent girl as Tarkin's behest.

It was humiliating; a Lord of the Sith playing lackey to some upstart Governor who thought he was somebody. Vader looked forward to the day when Tarkin would fall out of the Emperor's favor and Vader could deal with him—personally.

He might enjoy it almost as much as destroying the imprisoned Jedi. The most entertaining part of torturing the impertinent girl was he ensured the Jedi could hear her screams and sense her agony—all the while knowing they were powerless to intervene and stop her suffering.

Powerless; like he had been on Mustafar; like he had been to save Padmé and his child.

She had been certain it was a son; he, a daughter. To this day he never uncovered who had been right.

Padme had been buried still showing; it had been too late to save the baby.

He would never know.

Fresh rage swelled within him; he welcomed it, let it wrap around him like a burning cloak. The darkness was cold, dead, a void. Anger was the fire, the heat, the searing brilliance that filled that emptiness.

Anger made him feel whole again, complete; so long as it lasted.

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Tarkin didn't waste words when he arrived.

"By now word has reached all of the planets in this sector that we are here."

Vader repressed the sigh. "You still intend to move forward with this…plan?"

Foolishness, more like. And reckless; remaining here like a roosting mynock.

"The Specter has been a plague to the Empire for years," Tarkin returned, his face and tone that of reprimanding, or correcting, and Vader held back the flood-dam of anger, "he has killed hundreds, perhaps thousands of our highest ranking officers, generals, Grand Moffs—"

_And you fear him, _Vader added silently.

-"and it must be ended; _he_ must be ended. Our agents have been unable to destroy or capture him; therefore we will draw him here. His rebel sympathies are well known, with the bait of the princess and Jedi, he will come for them—and _you'll _be here to finish him."

Vader forced his breathing to remain even, it was difficult with visions of Force-choking the upstart Governor dancing in his mind's eye. Soon enough, they would become real; he had but to wait.

"Those officers were fools," Vader said sharply instead, "fools, careless and incompetent. The Specter's taking advantage of their bungling is no credit to his skill; or danger as a foe. It would be better to destroy the Jedi now; before the assassin even arrives."

And…if the Specter did arrive, Vader would kill him; he didn't want to chance the killer getting Tarkin before he could deal with him. He wouldn't allow it.

Tarkin only straightened, his expression that of a man about to yank the chain of an untrained mongrel. "The Emperor does not agree," he haughtily returned, "His Highness wishes for this assassin to be destroyed at the earliest opportunity. The Jedi are beaten and locked away; they are no longer a threat."

Vader had to agree in that moment the Jedi were no the greatest threat on the station; Tarkin's brainless ambitions were. But, his master had commanded him to assist the Governor, and so he was cornered in this infuriating task until his master decided otherwise.

He quietly reassured himself Tarkin's time would come; no one ever escaped the Sith. Tarkin wouldn't.

And neither would Kenobi or Yoda.

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Luke peered through a narrow grating down into the detention area. It was a vast, multi-leveled structure—no surprise there.

The Empire would need all of that room; there was no shortage of people in the galaxy who hadn't figured out that wanting to live with freedom and personal liberty was a crime. No doubt the Empire planned to use the DS1 to "enlighten" them.

Luke grimaced. He'd see about that. Fade peeked her translucent head over his shoulder and gazed down into the labyrinth of bridges, rows of tiny cells, turbo-lifts and such.

There was certainly no shortage of guards. Grey-uniformed men stood at every corner and milled thickly in the ante-chamber that resided just off the landing of the largest turbo-lift.

"Our forcibly confiscated Imperial tax credits at work, Fade," Luke barbed.

_We don't pay taxes friend, _was the casual reply.

"And in light of this, isn't that a shame?"

Fade only grinned and shook her head. _Not at all._ _Shall we? _

Luke commed in to Link and Mouse. "You guys set?"

"Ready when you are, boss."

"Noc? You read me?"

A small text box with 'ready' popped up on the inner viewing screen in his helmet.

"Great, let's do this." Luke reached for the grating's center bars.

He felt Fade grab his shoulder. _Wait friend, look._ She gestured with her long tail below.

Luke followed her gaze. His breath caught.

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After his 'delightful' talk with Tarkin, as Vader was about to take his leave, Tarkin's head aide marched in. "All systems are ready, sir."

Vader watched a light go off in Tarkin's insidious eyes. "Perhaps the princess would respond to a different form of persuasion."

Vader's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Tarkin lifted his chin. "Perhaps it's time we demonstrate the power of this station. Bring the princess, Vader. Let's give her something to think about while she goes to her execution."

Then the pieces came together for Vader. Tarkin had planned this all the while; they weren't sitting the Alderaan's astro-space merely as bait for Specter, but because it was no secret that Tarkin despised Bail Organa…and he was planning to use the princess as an excuse to destroy Organa's homeworld—with him on it.

While Vader could applaud Tarkin's ambition and craving for revenge, he couldn't ignore the whisper of his intuition that this would end badly. And then he felt it:

That ripple in the Force again.

Whatever that harbinger of disaster was…it was already _here_.


	10. Chapter 10: Vader

**A/N:** Hey y'all, got a few reviews so far about the last 2 Chapt.s; thanks for the love! I'm glad to see so many new ppl 'alerting' this fic! *Wipes away happy tear.* You're all super awesome; school continues to go smoothly and I've got a mini vacay coming up, so y'all know what that means! More fic-writing time! Yay! OK, so a few quick things: the term "Falconopteryx" came from the words 'falcon' and the first bird: Archaeopteryx, because Noc has the tail of one. Use Google Images to see pics of them; they're pretty cool looking actually. Also, I am deliberately making Kenobi more of a tormented soul in this fic because to me the canon of him doesn't make sense. If Anakin was so dear and precious to him, he wouldn't simply deem is fall and mutilation "the will of the Force," and decide Anakin was un-savable as Vader. The "he's more machine now than man," notion doesn't fit the Obi-Wan who loved Anakin dearly as a son in brother in the prequels; to me, Lucas didn't streamline that very well, so I'm giving Ben more depth and conflict because from my view it makes more sense. But, this is just my view, I know not everyone agrees, and that's totally cool; but, I just wanted to FYI y'all on that. Ok? Cool; onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 10- Vader _

"I see," was all the Jedi could say. He swallowed the dry knot in his throat and rose, when his eyes met Han's, the captain didn't like the shadowy, haunted look that filled them.

"You'll excuse me, captain," the old man murmured, before leaving the lounge, something weighed down in his steps.

Han sighed, and Chewie harned a question to him.  
"He just needs time to come to terms, Chewie," Han flatly replied, his eyes still locked on the doorway the Jedi had exited through, "it's not every day you find out your best friend's kid is the most wanted assassin in the galaxy."

Chewie woofed and grumbled something.

"Yeah, he came off to me as the super-virtuous type too; that's why I warned him ahead of time."

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Obi-Wan found a quiet corner with a long, narrow viewport to contemplate his conversation with the captain.

Luke, Anakin's Luke, _Padmé's_ Luke, was the infamous assassin called the Spector.

Even in his isolation, he had all of the horror stories when traveling into town for food and supplies.

The Spector's reputation was well deserved; he had made a blood-drenched name for himself in killing the most well-guarded Imperial Grand Admirals, Senators openly supporting the Emperor for personal gain—even as the expense of their worlds—and had broken into every high-security facility in the galaxy, destroying Imperial projects and experiments; he had liberated the most impossibly incarcerated Rebel leaders, fought and slain many dark Jedi and Sith operatives—all while eluding capture, evading bounties higher than any Rebel general or renegade Senator had tied to them (like Mon Mothma for example), and no bounty hunter dared hunt him—not wanting to be cut up and sent back in festive boxes to Imperial Center.

The stories swirling around the Specter were many and vivid. Ben let the stars blazing in the dark vacuum burn into his gaze; he had to follow the Force's leading on this. He took a centering breath.

Yes; Luke had accumulated quite a grisly reputation for himself…but he was still fighting for the Alliance, he hadn't become a Sith—even though he had no shortage of opportunities it had seemed—and he hadn't sided with the Empire.

But, why hadn't he joined the Alliance? He was helping them, advancing their cause, and from Solo had told him, Luke had taken very little if any credits for it. The vast majority of his fortune was made doing jobs for the Underworld. So…where was the sense in that? What was he doing with all of that wealth?

Solo had described his ship the _Revenant_, in detail; Ben had also heard it whispered about often in the cantinas when he'd quietly stop for a drink and listen for information and his cutting-edge and frightening suit as well. Luke had often been called the antithesis of the Mandalorians; they designed their suits to showcase their exploits and accomplishments; the coloring, mementos attached and such were all to illustrate their skill and triumphs; Luke though held a nickname among their society: the Mandalorian Shadow. His suit, while even more advanced than the famous Mandalorian armor, bore no insignias, no marking hinting at his adventures and achievements, it was a completely blank canvas…like the man himself.

"The kid's life hasn't been pretty," Solo had pragmatically told him, "but man, has it been exciting."

_Adventure, excitement, _Yoda had once refuted in Ben's childhood, _a Jedi craves not these things!_

Did Luke have the potential to become a Jedi? If so, Ben would surely need Yoda's aid in reaching it; if not, what were they going to do? The Sith had exploded in numbers and power since the Republic's fall, who would defeat the Sith Order and restore freedom to the galaxy if not Luke?

"_Get all the facts first," _Solo had urged him.

Obi-Wan nodded to himself; the fact was the captain was right. He would find Luke, talk to him extensively and follow the leading of the Force. No Jedi truly entered the Order with a _completely_ clean slate; even the younglings eventually had their own experiences with temptation and darkness. And it was evident that Luke _did_ have some light in him, otherwise he would have single-handedly destroyed the Rebellion and been handsomely compensated for it by the Empire.

It was true; if Luke was taking jobs on behalf of the Alliance, he knew the locations of their bases; if so, that was information the Empire would happily pay billions of credits to gain. Luke could have simply sold out the Rebellion, helped the Empire destroy them, and surely in return the Empire would issue a full pardon for his crimes and either offer him an illustrious position in the uppermost echelons, or paid him even more to do the same to the Underworld leaders and rebellious world leaders until everyone was too terrified to defy Imperial control.

Ben swallowed hard at that realization, and then it hit him: the side that had Luke was the side that won. Jedi or not, Luke already was _the_ deciding factor in this war—

And surely it was only a matter of time before the Emperor and Vader figured it out too; especially if they ever discovered Luke was more than just an insanely skilled assassin.

They must never know he's Anakin's Skywalker's long lost son.

"Figured I'd find you in here," a voice announced from behind him.

He turned; Solo was lazily leaning against the doorways' inner frame, arms folded, wearing his trademark cynical look.

He wondered if the captain knew he had a signature expression; somehow he thought Solo did.

The captain was far shrewder than he let on, after all.

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Luke watched as Vader strode with large, imposing steps to the princess's cell and had the guards fetch her out. He said something to her, Luke didn't make out the words—and he couldn't exactly read Vader's lips—but the princess paled and her eyes widened for a second before she forced on a mask of resilient boldness.

And by the stars, wasn't she a beauty, flashing eyes and all….

Luke brushed the thought away and saw Fade lean forward as Vader led the guards with the princess in tow to the main turbo-lift.

"All right," he whispered to Fade, knowing Link, Mouse and Noc could hear too, "this is it; the dark lord's taking the princess; they're going to fire the main cannon at Alderaan."

"_What!?"_ Link and Mouse shouted incredulously; he heard a beverage can tip over the Link cursing.

"There's no other reason he'd take the princess from her cell while being in Alderaan's territory," Luke snapped, "now we don't have time; how do we sabotage the Death Star's main cannon?"

"Hold on," Link said, all business again. "Let me pull up the specs."

"Hurry," Luke pressed, "Noc, find a way to open all the detention cells in every part of the DS1 on my mark, okay?"

_On it, _the pop-up box read.

"All right," Luke said, exhaling, "we have to time this just right."

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"I hope you're gonna give the kid a chance," Han casually said, ambling up to Kenobi.

Ben nodded, taking another centering breath. "I will; it was just…shocking to learn what became of him." He gave a helpless shrug and turned from Solo back to the viewport. "You see, captain, after his mother died, I was the one who took him to Tatooine; I had sworn to his mother before she was laid to rest that I would take care of Luke for her." He put his head down, trying to push away the resurgence of guilt that dug into his bones. "I failed them, both of his parents. Anakin was the most important thing in the galaxy to me; when I suspected that he had married Luke's mother in secret, I said nothing because I couldn't bear the idea of watching him be expelled from the Jedi Order; it meant so much to him to be a Jedi, to fight for freedom. He had been born into slavery and standing up for freedom and liberty I could tell fed his very soul."

"But then the war," Han wearily put in, looking away.

Ben nodded. "Yes. We did try to save the Republic captain. We Jedi were betrayed by the Chancellor along with the rest of the galaxy. He had our numbers whittled down gradually through the war; and then Order 66 was meant to finish off any surviving members."

"Are any Jedi out there other than you?"

Ben nodded, but kept his answer vague. "Yes; I have felt them on occasion, out there."

Han sighed. "You can't blame yourself for what happened to the kid, pirates raid Outer Rim settlements all the time. It's dangerous territory out there; you know that as well as me. If you weren't there to defend the kid, I'm sure you had a good reason."

Ben nodded, letting his brow rest against the cool transparisteel. "I did. And I was promised another would look after him in my absence." He failed to add it was Qui-Gon's spirit who had made that vow…and that Ben to this day didn't fully comprehend—now more than ever—how that vow had not been broken.

Surely Luke's…transformation had some greater purpose?

Some part of Ben grabbed onto that though and clung to it; he desperately wanted to hope it was so. But, he couldn't be fully confident of it.

However, he could be fully confident in Qui-Gon; that would have to be enough.

"I look forward to meeting young Luke," he said instead. He heard Solo's boots clank against the durasteel flooring as he sauntered up to Ben. The captain slapped his shoulder encouragingly.

"You should be," Solo optimistically agreed, "he's a good kid; tough, skilled…but loyal. He'll fight the entire galaxy to save you if you're in trouble; and he'd spend himself into bankruptcy to help you if you're in need. Yeah, he's blood on his hands…but it's bad blood. He's never killed an innocent person before…and he never will. I'd stake my life on it."

His hand remained on Ben's shoulder; he squeezed slightly, just enough to be heartening.

So much about the captain reminded him of Anakin: the insolent confidence, the witty sarcasm, the sharp perceptiveness—and the steady, unbreakable willpower.

Solo had some makings of the Jedi in him; Ben wondered how that would go over with the captain. It was tempting to find out; would probably be entertaining.

"I need you to do me another favor," Solo suddenly added, his voice now grim.

Ben glanced back at him. "Of course."

Solo's tone was deathly somber. "Don't tell the kid I said those nice things about him; I don't want it going to his head. He's young and impressionable after all."

"And of course you want to be a good example for him?"

Solo didn't miss the veiled cheek. "Hey, don't make me drop you off at the nearest asteroid."

Ben laughed. "You'll never see that fifteen thousand then."

Han deflated. "True," he glumly put in, and perked up. Wrapping one arm around the Jedi, he led Kenobi to the door. "I'll tell you what," his tone was all business again, "I won't drop you off and you pay me and we'll call it even…if you do one other thing."

Ben chuckled. "And that would be?"

"Chewie's been asking about dessert."

They both laughed as they headed back to the lounge.

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When they reached the lounge, Chewbacca was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, Master Chewbacca said that we were almost ready to leave hyperspace," Threepio helpfully supplied, "he told us to tell you he's in the cockpit."

"Time flies when you're having fun," Solo dryly quipped and made for the cockpit. Something told Ben to follow.

"You too stay here," he directed the droids.

"Of course, Master Kenobi."

Artoo beeped compliance.

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When Obi-Wan entered the cockpit, it was just as the bright swirl of hyperspace receded to the glimmering spectrum of dazzling stars.

"We're coming up on Alderaan," Solo said.

Ben felt a chill go through him; no, it couldn't be.

Vader; he sensed Vader nearby.

"Captain, do a full sensor sweep of the area," Kenobi told him.

Solo blinked, but apparently he had some sort of intuition as well, because he did so.

"What the…." He said.

Ben suddenly saw a flash of scarlet light just before the ship shook!

Blaster fire; and Ben caught the tell-tale whine of a TIE fight swooping past them.

"What's an escort ship doing out here?" Han demanded.

Ben peered closer out the circular dome port of the _Falcon_. There was Alderaan, a brilliant orb or azure and emerald, frosted with silvery clouds…but what was that rising on its far side?

"Look," Han said, pointing, "he's heading for that small moon." He made a frustrated noise. "There are no outposts in this area, where did it come from?"

As Ben took in the 'small moon,' darkness filled his thoughts. "That's no moon," he quietly said, "it's a space station."

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**A/N: **Okay, so I hope you enjoy; plz leave a review! Sorry that these updates have been slower than usual; aside from life and homework, I've been making some additions and expansions to the story. It just seemed that in some parts of future chapters were not as big scope as I like. I promise super amazing cool stuff is coming! Especially now that Vader's in the picture, WOOT! I'm excited; hope you are too! Till then!


	11. Chapter 11: Alderaan

**A/N: **K? So, I'm UBER stoked as I had 750 readers in one day! OMG! Anyhow, thanks for continuing to support (and hopefully like) this fic; I'm having a load of fun writing it and the reviews I get really are the frosting on the cake; so, enjoy and plz review as well as any questions. Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 11: Alderaan _

"It's too big to be a space station," Han refuted, checking the sensors again.

The dark, forbidding sense grew in Kenobi. "Turn the ship around."

Han fidgeted as though something unsettled him. He looked harder at the 'moon' they were drawing closer to. "Yeah, I think you're right…." He pulled at the reversal controls.

Something invisible grabbed the ship; it jarred vigorously and Ben grabbed the back of Solo's chair to stay on his feet.

"Why are we still moving towards it captain?" he already guessed the answer.

"We're caught in its tractor beam," Han ground out, fighting with the controls as Chewie harned out his own frustration, "I'm gonna have to shut down." He added under his breath: "They're not gonna get me without a fight."

Obi-Wan felt Vader's presence intensify; it was only a matter of minutes, surely, before the dark lord detected him; if he hadn't already. He pictured Solo trying to oppose Vader.

"You can't win," he told the captain tonelessly, "but there are alternatives to fighting."

"At least Spek's already here," Solo said, rising. "We have an edge with him on our side." Chewie got up as well, looming over both of the men.

"C'mon," Solo added, gesturing to them both. "We'll need someplace to hide till we figure out how to track down Spek. And," he grinned smugly, "Chewie and I have just the place."

The three of them hurried out as the ship was pulled into a large, rectangular holding dock.

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Link and Mouse found three separate locations where they would have to simultaneously sabotage if they wanted any hope of thwarting that supermassive cannon. Fade took the main generator control panel within the super-cannon itself as it was farthest away and as she could phase through solid objects, she could reach it fastest; Noc could quickly reach one of the key supporting cannons and infect it with a virus that would a mainly spread to the other sub-cannons. That left the main computer…which was near the core of the DS1, which just happened to be located a few levels from the detention center.

Using the main computer itself would be impossible unless he ambushed the chambers it was held in and either stunned or killed the plethora of men in charge of maintaining and guarding the all-important system…which is why he found himself _beneath _the main computer's installation chamber, having laser-cut out the layers of metal panels which made up the ceiling of the room he was magnetized to via his suit. After cutting enough metal away to reach the systems, and large enough to fit in, he deactivated the magnetic function on his belt and hoisted himself into the 'guts' of the system.

He sighed, wishing briefly he had phasing power; oh, well, no use lamenting the unchangeable. He soundlessly crawled into the system itself and eventually spotted the 'nexus circuitry' Link and Mouse had uploaded a visual of into his helmet.

"Guys, I've spotted it," he informed them quietly.

"Great," Link praised and proceeded to give him directions on how to take it down.

"How are Fade and Noc doing?" he asked.

"Fine," Mouse assured him, "Noc's virus is already taking control of all the supporting cannons and Fade's telekinetically dismantling pretty much the entire central generator for the main cannon," he chuckled, "in fact, I thinks she's now tearing apart all the supporting generators too, ya know, so they can't divert power from other sources."

"Yeah, you got a couple of workaholics on your hands there," Link quipped.

Mouse chuckled as Luke worked. "Ya know, if you get lucky man, some of that might rub off on you…someday."

Link and Mouse both busted up.

Luke put away his tools, his body now cabled to the nearest grated wall while he finished up.

"Yeah," he dryly agreed, "you both know I never work while at work."

He glanced down; at least 200 meters were between him and the nearest 'landing.'

"And of course there are no risks either," he added.

Link and Mouse laughed again…they could what he saw via vid link on his helmet.

"Careful man, that first step's a doozy," Link snarked.

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"…I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board."

Tarkin only smirked and touched her face. "Charming, to the last." And his tone abruptly hardened. "You have no idea how hard I found it, signing the order to terminate your life."

Leia's tone was sharper than a vibro-blade. "I'm surprised you found the courage to assume the responsibility yourself."

Vader grinned. Even the deluded princess knew the odor of a coward.

Tarkin only reared up, his hatchet face reddened ever so slightly. "Princess Leia," he domineeringly avowed, "I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this station fully operational." He strode a few steps away and gestured dramatically. "No star systems will dare oppose the Emperor now."

"The more you tighten your grip Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers."

Vader didn't disapprove her insipid tone; she sounded like a mother trying to explain the obvious to her bumbling toddler—he held back a snicker.

A pity she was a traitor…on occasion the princess could be, _amusing_.

"Not after we demonstrate the power of this station," Tarkin harshly countered….

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Luke, after rejoining Fade, found the viewing chamber where Vader and Tarkin were holding the princess just as Tarkin pointed a finger at the young royal with a chastising expression on his face.

"In a way, you have decided the choice of planet we will destroy first," the vile Governor declared.

Luke and Fade found a discreet corner near the vents where they could peer down into the chamber through a grating screen.

"Guys," he whispered to Mouse and Link, "we found her."

"Great, just bust in and rescue her while we finish with the station," Link said.

"Yeah," Mouse agreed, "we can take it from here, man. Don't worry about it."

"I…" Luke hesitated. "I…can't. Not yet."

"Uh…what?" both men returned.

"Did you just say 'can't," Link asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Mouse put in, "I didn't know you even knew what that word _meant_."

"Guys," Luke emphasized, "Vader is in there."

"….Oh." they said.

"I've got to wait till he puts her back in her cell," Luke explained, "then, after he returns to Tarkin, I have the window needed to break her out."

He hated it; he wanted to just 'bust in,' as the hackers said, mow down Tarkin and his detestable henchmen and snatch the princess.

But…there was that little matter of a fully realized Sith Lord standing just behind the princess.

He hated it, this feeling of helplessness—but he knew where his limits were.

And Vader was passed them; _far, far_ passed them.

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"Dantooine," Leia said, putting her head down to feign defeat, and praying Vader wouldn't see passed her façade, "they're on Dantooine."

"There," Tarkin answered in triumph, "you see, Vader? She can be reasonable." He turned to an aide. "Continue with the operation, you may fire when ready."

"_What!?"_ Leia screamed. No, no please, her family; her people! They can't die this way!

This cannot happen!

"You're far too trusting," Tarkin silkily reproved her; "Dantooine is far too remote to make an effective demonstration. But don't worry; we'll deal with your rebel friends soon enough."

Anger and terror consumed her; she rushed Tarkin, but Vader snatched her back before she could attack the Governor. "Nooooo," she moaned desperately as Vader's large hand seized her shoulder.

Her breathing became ragged as she heard the tell-tale piercing sound of gunnery firing up. Alderaan seemed to emblazon itself into her eyes, her memory, so she'd never forget what it looked like…after it was gone.

She waited, her mind frozen, too horrified to even form goodbye's to her beloved family.

She waited.

She waited.

Nothing…happened.

"Where is the cannon-fire!?" Tarkin roared.

And aide spoke into his comlink. "Sir," he tentatively replied after a moment, "there appears to be a problem with the main cannon."

"A problem?" Tarkin's voice was deadly.

Beneath his mask, Vader grinned; ultimate power in the universe indeed.

"Y-yes, sir," the aide continued, "the main generator is down."

"Then divert power from the other generators!"

"They already tried sir; it…it seems they're all down."

"All!?"

The aide gulped his eyes fearful. "Y...yessir. They're working on it now."  
"How long till it's operational?"

The aide spoke into his comm again. Leia waited with baited breath.

"They say a few days, sir," was the very nervous reply.

Tarkin stomped from the room. "Incompetence! I want the heads of engineering in my chambers now Vader!" he bellowed as he veered on the princess.

"Don't think that this'll save your planet, princess," he sneered at her, and looked up at Vader. "Have the planet blockaded at once and the royal family arrested." He turned back to Leia and his smile was chilling. "We'll have them executed here, on board this battle-station, one by one until you give us every last piece of information of the rebels you know," he coldly told her. He straightened and favored Leia with another ghastly smile. "Who knows? It might even be more…stimulating for you than this, especially after we enslave the populace as the traitors they are." He strode for the doorway. "See to it my orders are carried out Vader," he authoritatively said after a few steps.

"Aide, call for heads of engineering," Vader ordered the assistant; who gulped and reached for his comm.

Tarkin suddenly halted and spun on his heel. "No," he growled, "I said I want the _heads_ of engineering, Vader," he venomously hissed, "_only_ their heads. Get competent men on the cannons and have them fixed…_now_."

With that, he strode imperiously away.

Vader ignored the sigh of relief from the princess and how her body relaxed under his hand as he pulled her back in the direction of her cell.

"Tell the heads of engineering to send their lowest-level men to my chambers," he informed the aide as he led the princess away. The aide looked confused, but nodded and carried out Vader's command.

As Vader led the rebel princess away, he thought to himself he'd happily cut his own head of because of Tarkin's mewling temperament. The fact was, had Tarkin any ability to think, he would have realized the cannons were defective…only Tarkin's puny brain was.

No, those cannons were sabotaged; Vader was certain.

And, who was capable of carrying out such a deed undetected…and had been given an invitation to come 'visit' by the bungling Governor himself?

The Specter: he was here; on the station.

And Vader was going to find him—and thank him for the amusing spectacle he provided through the failed cannon display and Tarkin's rampant fury.

And then Vader would kill him.

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As Tarkin practically exploded with rage and ranted about blockades, traitors and arrest, Luke spoke into his helmet comm:

"Link, Mouse, you guys hearing this?"

"Yep," Mouse came back, "we're already comming the royal family. We'll tell Bail and the rest to get off planet fast."

"Tell them to get to Yavin base," Luke directed, "after I get the princess and Jedi, tell Bail we'll meet up with them there."

"Got it."

Vader lead the princess away after a few moments; Luke nodded to Fade and they silently trailed him from the eaves and overhangs.

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**A/N: **Ok, things are heating up! Yay! I'm so glad we're at this phase of the story already I hope you all continue to enjoy. Plz leave a couple words if you do; I don't need a novel, but a sentence or two of your thoughts would really make my day! ;) Till next time!


	12. Chapter 12: Detection

**A/N: **Ok, so I'm just gonna clarify quick that Nocturne was named so because his viruses can cause blackouts, ergo I thought it was appropriate, and went well with names like Specter and Fade. Otherwise, no questions were asked so I'm gonna ask one. I'd like to know your thoughts on how I'm presenting the AU; do the OC's make sense in the story, what do you think? I know some ppl like AU more than others, and OC's are kind of hit and miss, but I did take a lot of time in developing Fade, Noc, Link, Mouse and so on before deciding whether or not to put them in the fic; so, I hope you like them. They weren't an overnight thing or just off the top of my head deal. And, I did want Luke to have partners, loner-gigging just didn't seem right for him, at least to me. Anyways, that's about it, so here we go! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 12- Detection _

Luke ensured they were at a safe distance before telling Link and Mouse: "Shutting down the cannon and getting Bail out won't be enough; we need to get this thing _away _from Alderaan. How do we make it go to light speed?"

Before the hackers could answer, the turbo-lift opened and Vader and Leia stepped off. As they passed the detention control station, right outside the rows of cell corridors, a sensor beeped a notifications alert.

A commander checked it and Vader paused, handing the princess, who never wavered from her proud stance, to a pair of guards.

"Lord Vader," the young officer said, "they want you in sector 8D. Our tractor beam captured a vessel trying to reach Alderaan."

Vader gestured expectantly. "Is there anything of import to this vessel?"

The dark-haired officer nodded. "Yessir. It bears markings similar to those who blasted its way out of Mos Eisley spaceport." Luke noted how the officer fidgeted nervously at that.

Why did the officer sound so familiar? The voice clawed at his memories.

Luke could just about feel the dark lord's glower. Oh, no. It must be Han; they caught the _Falcon_.

"Guys," he whispered urgently to Mouse and Link.

"We heard," they grimly said, and he heard lots of keys being pressed quickly and harshly. "We'll see if they've been caught or made any attempts to leave the ship."

Luke glanced at Fade. "We'll get the princess and find Han before Vader does."

She nodded and wrapped her tail around him.

Luke couldn't phase through solid objects, but Fade could; and the best part was, she could phase anything that she was _touching_.

Vader walked with large strides back to the lift, with: "Tell them I'll be there shortly," and was gone.

Fade waited until after they heard the telltale 'swish' of the lift's door shutting before phasing them into the princess's chamber through the ceiling.

The princess reacted instantly. Luke pounced on her a second after they dropped through; she had riveted to face them immediately, her lips parted to scream—and one fist pulled back to punch.

"Don't be afraid," he urged her, intercepting her fist, "Garm Bel-Iblis sent me to rescue you."

Her eyes widened and her rigid body relaxed. She tugged on his arm with her free hand, saying to take his hand away.

"Only after you swear you won't scream."

She nodded. He removed his hand.

After exhaling hard enough to move her shoulders, Leia regarded him with her gleaming caramel eyes. Luke could see why Tarkin described her as 'charming.' He could feel the charisma and appeal that wrapped around her like…well, armor.

And what formidable armor it was. She undoubtedly had used it well too.

"Garm sent you?"

A nod.

"Who are you?"

"I'm called Specter." He gestured to Fade, who had resumed her amethyst-spectral form and was floating in the air beside him. "This is Fade, my associate. She's helping me break you and the Jedi out of here."

"So, there _are_ Jedi here?"

Another nod; he didn't miss the hope that lit her stunning eyes.

"Wonderful," she said with relieved purposefulness, and seemed to switch modes somehow, "let me borrow a blaster; we'll bust them out together."

He took her outstretched hand. "No, we won't. I already have their escape all planned out. My…other associate is in charge of that. I promised the General I'd get you out of here without getting shot up."

She gave him an indignant glower. "But, we can't leave without and Jedi!"

He lifted his hand back to her mouth, warning to not raise her voice again. He saw her get it. "And I won't; but I have…other friends who were captured just now by the Empire. One of them is your father's friend."

Her eyes widened. "Who?"

"Promise no raised voice."

She nodded.

"General Kenobi."

Her mouth opened, but she clamped it shut in time. "I see," she eventually said, "all right; I know you know what you're doing. Just tell when and how I can help."

Not a damsel in distress? Better and better. Luke pushed the thought away.

"Good, Fade; phase us through this side wall, please."

The Ethereal nodded and wrapped her lengthy tail around both of them. Luke put his hand against the wall that also had her attached 'cot.' "Take a deep breath princess; the first time you do this feels a bit weird."

She nodded and took a calming breath.

The three of them vanished through the wall.

And no one in the detention area suspected a thing.

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"It must be a decoy, Lord Vader," the deck officer assured him, "several escape pods have been jettisoned.

"Did you find any droids?"

"No sir, if there were any aboard, they too must have jettisoned."

Vader ground his teeth. This had the scent and flavor of more than the Specter at work. It felt…off somehow. "Get a scanning crew aboard; I want every part of this ship checked."

Then…it hit him; an all too familiar presence.

It was him: _Kenobi_.

After all those years of hunting and searching, his old master deigned to show himself at last.

Perhaps the Specter brought a 'friend' with him; another man with vested interest in liberating the imprisoned Jedi?

Vader grinned, this time not ignoring the pain—but _embracing_ it.

This suited Vader _perfectly_; he'd finish off his old mentor and the assassin in one fell swoop.

He made haste from the hanger. He had preparations to make to 'properly greet' his old master.

Soon, his pain would be theirs as well.

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"It's fortunate you had these compartments," Kenobi said as he lifted the metal panel off the hidden area where he and the others had concealed themselves.

"I use them for smuggling," Solo grimly explained, "I never thought I'd be smuggling myself." He sighed in annoyance. "This is ridiculous, even if I could get us out of here, I'd never be able to get us passed that tractor beam."

Kenobi gave him a look.

"No, don't say it," Solo flatly said.

"Say what?"

"'Leave that to me.'"

Kenobi chuckled. "Actually, I was going to suggest we locate young Luke. He's already here; I can sense a very vague impression of him in the Force. He no doubt has found the princess already and if the rumors are to be believed, captured Jedi are being held here…_many_ of them."

"And you think Spek's found them too?"

"It's a safe assumption."

Solo sighed. "All right, the more the better I say. Maybe your old pals can help get us out of here."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I believe they can." He gestured to the corridor leading to the ramp. "Shall we?"

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"He is here."

Tarkin looked doubtful. "Obi-Wan Kenobi?" He leaned into his tall-backed chair, a disbelieving frown lining his narrow face. "What makes you think so?"

"A tremor in the Force; the last time I felt it was in the presence of my old master." Vader had no intention of doing more than inform Tarkin his 'pet plan' was now officially _over_.

The man had tried trickery and manipulations and those had failed.

Vader however was a _warrior_ and he'd face the enemies now _his_ way: saber ignited in battle to the death-_their_ deaths.

Tarkin's machinations had placed the DS1 at risk; and while Vader couldn't care less about the pathetic station, triumphing over the Empire's most insidious foes did matter to him.

And conveniently for him, they were all here, _now _on the Death Star.

The dark side was truly with him this day.

But Tarkin lacked the vision to see as much apparently. The governor shook his head dismissively. "The Jedi are practically extinct, their fire has gone out from the universe." He rose and strode to a viewport that offered a clear observation to the levels below. "After tonight, you, my friend will be all that's left of their religion."

Vader silently agreed with Tarkin on the last part as he'd see to it personally.

The large round table's alert sensor went off. Tarkin pressed it. "Yes?"

"There's an emergency on the detention levels," an officer said urgently.

"The princess?" Tarkin asked angrily. "Put all levels on high alert."

That settled it for Vader. "Obi-Wan is here; the Force is with him."

Tarkin looked up, his eyes determined. "If you're right, he must not be allowed to escape."

Vader wanted to strangle the idiocy right out of the man. "Escape is not his plan," he spelled out for Tarkin, "I must face him"—_and whoever is with him_—"alone."

He spun on his heel and with his long cape snapping loudly, he single-mindedly made for the detainment hanger.

Tarkin didn't notice the second lightsaber clipped to his belt.

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**A/N: **You like? I hope so. Plz leave your thoughts and feedback. Homework is now calling so I'm gonna boogie out for now. Take care! Till next time!

P.S.: I've been forgetting to do this so here it is: only the OC's belong to me: Fade, Link, Mouse, Noc, etc. All original SW characters OF COURSE belong to Disney/George Lucas. This is totally for fun because SW is ALL DAT!


	13. Chapter 13: Discoveries

**A/N:** Ok, y'all; so, I got about a half dozen reviews so far on the most recent chapters and thx a billion for all the positive feedback! I'm not getting any negative on the OC's (which means a LOT to me!) and overall everyone's just saying 'update faster!' LOL; you guys rock. Well, again the ongoing support and encouragement means bunches to me and I'd also like to thank the variety of countries that are hanging with this fic (I won't list all of them that'd take too long, but among them are): Slovenia, New Zealand, Spain, Lithuania, Singapore, Turkey, Jamaica, Israel, Finland, Hungary and France. And that's only a sampling! It just shows the enduring global love of SW and that's just plain awesome Anyhow, let's get this moving, so…onward! *Psst, nada but the OC's are mine; duh, right? LOL.

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 13-Discoveries_

After Fade got them a few levels away, Luke and Leia found themselves in a storage room, hidden among piles of large metal crates.

"Probably weapons and rations," Luke commented, crouching down to read the labels.

"All right," Leia said, nodding that she heard him, "so what's the next move."

"Tarkin won't rest till your world's in pieces," Luke replied stonily, and Leia's worried frown told him she knew as much too, "so you're going to take Fade and find Kenobi and my friends."

"And you?"

"Me and my other partner will make this thing go into light speed; get it away from Alderaan. It'll also give your family time to flee the planet."

"My family won't abandon our people!" there was something indignant about her tone.

Luke shook his head. "They don't have a choice now; the Empire has labeled them traitors. Tarkin will have your father's head and will use your mother and aunts as hostages; bargaining chips to make Alderaan submit to Imperial takeover. Your family is loved by Alderaan; the Empire knows that. They've got no choice but to leave. Two of my team have already told Bail to get out. He'll do it, for the good of Alderaan."

Leia's shoulders slouched; defeated by the airtight logic. She nodded grimly. "He will; my family will hate leaving their people. But you're right: it's too late for anything else now."

Luke squeezed her shoulder consolingly. He opened one of the crates and found it contained a variety of blasters. He handed two pistols and a rifle to her.

"Tuck the pistols one into your belt, one into your boot. Use the rifle. Keep the pistols for backup."

She nodded, soberly doing as he said. "Are there any grenades? Smoke bombs?"

He peered back in and shook his head. But, opening three more crates, found what she asked for.

"And you need these…?"

"They might come in handy," she efficiently said, giving him a raised eyebrow as if to ask my an assassin would need to question it.

He only chuckled, liking her spunk.

She cocked the rifle. "Ok, which way are we going?"

"Fade can sense Kenobi; she'll lead the way. You keep that thing handy in case of patrols. Noc and I— my other partner," he said to her confused look, "are gonna make things go a little crazy here; be ready for it."

She nodded, apparently anticipating as much. "We will be."

_Kenobi and the others have left their ship, _Fade informed them, and her softly gleaming purple eyes peered in the direction of them; _they've disguised themselves as a storm trooper with two prisoners. I have subtly reached out to Kenobi; he knows generally our location. _

"And Vader?" Luke inquired.

_I have eluded his sense; at least for now. But he has uncovered that Kenobi is here. He also suspects our presence as well._

Leia partly withheld the resigning sigh. "Can you fight Vader? He defeated all the imprisioned Jedi."

"He defeated them one on one," Luke countered firmly, "don't worry; I have our bets covered." He pulled Leia closer to Fade. "You two get going; Noc and I have got this."

"And don't forget us," Link piped up into his earpiece. "We gonna do something soon, or what?"

Luke frowned at the comm as Fade wrapped her tail around Leia's upper arm and guided her to the wall. Leia looked at him, her face lined with concern.

"Be careful, please. I want to be able to thank you when this is over."

Luke swallowed the unexpected knot in his throat. He was relieved his voice alteration module was still on; otherwise the quiver in his tone would have betrayed him. "I will, stay alert."

She nodded and then Fade phased them out. Luke let out a breath.  
"Ooooh," Mouse said, his tone saturated with knowing, "I think she likes you man."

"Ooooooooh," Link dramatically agreed. "Spek and the Princess."

"Shut up you two," Luke ordered harshly, "we've got work to do—"  
"She's gorgeous too," Mouse said, ignoring him, "I've seen the holo-clips—"

"Only a five percent bonus," Luke sing-song threatened.

"We're working! We're working!" the pair immediately exclaimed.

Luke sighed and headed for the coordinates where a command-console could be…snuck into.

"Noc, find the nearest linkup where you can take over the main engine system," he said. "I'm heading for the detention system's main computer. He grinned behind the mask.

"Let's make the Imps earn their pay today." He strode for the door…till something caught his eye.

One of the crates was marked "confiscation: top secret." It was also heavily locked up, far more than the other silvery-metal crates. Luke raised one of his vambraces to it, retro-fitted with a high-density photon laser.

The locks weren't that durable, apparently.

He opened the crate.

It was filled with lightsabers. Luke didn't hold back the wide smile.

Oh; this was beyond perfect.

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Han hated this; dressing up as a storm trooper was too close to his days on Carida, before being thrown out. He hated this.

He also hated this because he hated putting Chewie in those heavy metal binders; yes, they weren't locked actually, but that wasn't the point. The fact was, Chewie was an escaped Imperial slave; and Han wasn't foolish enough to believe Chewie's assurances that he was fine with it and the Jedi's plan was sound.

No; being here wasn't sound, following a Jedi who also wore pair of manacles quietly whispering to Han things like "Turn right, now follow this corridor and turn left," and the Jedi's reassuring comments that he could sense Luke's friend, Fade and that she had told him "through the Force" that she and Spek already had the princess and were making their way to them as well.

No; it was going too smoothly. Nothing ever went this smoothly for Han. There was always a hitch just waiting around the corner.

Han hated turning corners. Every one that he rounded and found no hitch meant the hitch was still lying in wait, lurking somewhere ready to pounce on him.

Han hated this.

"Calm down captain," Kenobi murmured to the back of his helmeted head. "Everything is going well."

"That's why I can't be calm," Solo quipped in return, "things never go well for us."

Chewie mumbled a woofing agreement. Han could see in his peripherals that the Wookie felt it too.

Ben only sighed. "Gentlemen, you're far too cynical for ones so young. You must have faith."

"I'll have faith when we're outta here and in one piece," Han sharply countered, "this is like Sabbacc; you don't breathe till _after_ you've won."

"I can sense Luke's friend and the princess nearby; we've almost reached them."

"Almost isn't good enough for me."

Ben only shook his head with a good-natured chuckle as they rounded yet another corner…and Han caught sight of no hitches.

Blast it anyways; where was it? Han couldn't stand long waits!

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**A/N: **Ok kiddos I've got to cut this short as I'm gonna be late for work. Plz enjoy and leave a review! Till next time!


	14. Chapter 14: Lightsabers

**A/N:** Hello y'all. Can't promise a long chapter today as I'm really wiped, Easter was at my place this year, so with cleaning, prepping…blah blah blah, it's been a long day; but I REALLY wanted to give y'all something for Easter—so here it is! Enjoy Plz review. Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 14—Lightsabers _

Luke made a point of not letting anything really get under his skin; an assassin had to always keep his head cool if he wanted to keep his head, period.

But…really; hanging upside down in two monolithic engine internals in one day? Really?

He repressed a sigh as he found the navigation conduit Link said had to be overridden in order to make this monstrosity take a 'field trip.'

A field trip to save Alderaan.

He snipped the right wires…but not the red one; Mouse insisted that bit about "it's always the red wire," just wasn't for real.

"Actually man," he told Luke once, "if you have to guess, it's actually the blue wire. Bet on blue."

_Bet on blue_, Luke grinned; it had a nice catchy-ness to it.

"Ok, I'm set," he said into his comm.

_I've set a course for the planet Dantooine. It's no longer inhabited by the Alliance, _Noc's text window said.

"We're ready here too, in case undetected back-up's kick in," Mouse put in.

Luke set the machinery back into their respective places.

Luke unclipped his harness and back-flipping downwards, grabbing a rail about 40 feet down and neatly flipping to a nearby guardrail.

"Noc, whenever you're ready," he told his friend.

He grabbed the wall as the station shuddered and the engines whined deafeningly.

The DS1 was no in hyperspace.

Luke made a triumphant fist as he caught Noc's happy chattering sounds and Link and Mouse slapping each other's hands and yelling: "Yeah! We _are_ that awesome!"

"Ok," Luke mock-tiredly said, "I guess you two get to keep that 10% after all."

Another round of cheers.

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Vader could practically smell infiltration in the over-filtered air.

Kenobi was here…and surely it was the Specter.

He had kept his perfect balance when the Death Star abruptly leapt into light-speed.

The head of engineering said it assured him over the comm it was nothing more than an aberration, no doubt brought on by the malfunctioning core network.

Vader knew better; Imperial reports on the Specter suggested he had a highly trained and super-secret organization of spies, technicians and cutting-edge computer experts that were far too adeptly trained for it to anywhere near legal.

Criminals of a feather, it seemed. Refuse bred refuse; Vader had seen it again and again.

The Sith Lord held back the sigh and reached out with the Force.

The dark side was able to unveil Kenobi's approximate location; but the mysterious Specter remained intangible…elusive.

Like smoke; curse the heathen assassin. Vader swore to make his death particularily horrific.

The thought brought a grim smile to his mangled face.

But…there was another problem: the other very faint tingle in the Force he could sense other than Kenobi. He had assumed at first it was the Specter; that the dark side was merely alerting him to the man's arrival. But, no; it was a disturbance in the Force itself; ergo, a Force user.

Surely this vile assassin could not be Force-trained. Firstly, no Jedi would train an assassin, no Jedi would sink to the low to become one…and had it been a Jedi turned dark sider, he would have come to the Empire…or made himself known long before now.

No, this entity was something entirely new. And…there were times when Vader could have sworn it seemed that the…whatever it was, was in two places at once!

No; he had to be misinterpreting the energies, it was the only explanation.

But, who was it? Had Kenobi taken another apprentice? Had the old man in fact fathered a child perhaps? The Jedi Order was officially over, so Obi-Wan no longer had any Jedi Council to fear, unlike Vader who had lived with that fear daily after secretly marrying.

But no; that was another lifetime ago, and he couldn't think on it now. There was too much else to attend to.

The fact remained though; some other…person was present on the DS1. Jedi or no, Vader would find him, it, whatever it was.

And he would also find out why the presence was so _agonizingly_ familiar….

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Luke wasted no time in returning to Nocturne and collecting his feathered ally. Afterwards, it was nothing to return to the detention center unnoticed. He and the falcon perched in the rafters, the crate of lightsabers beside them.

"Link, Mouse, are you set for the next move?" he quietly asked.

"Wow, you aren't making it easy for the Imps today, are ya boss?" Mouse said with a snide chuckle.

"We need to make this thing go haywire so it's not so obvious it's sabotage," Luke replied, "now, on three, you know what to do: make this station go crazy."

Two voices chuckled in malicious glee on the other end.

"With pleasure boss," Link said. Mouse snickered.

"Three."

Many things happened at once:

The cells of the Jedi all opened; the Force-proofed manacles they all wore shut off and fell from their wrists.

The comms both to and from the detention wing, and many other random wings went down.

Barracks quarters for troopers off duty all shut and locked; forbidding any men to leave or any to enter.

Training areas, most hangers and all of the recreational areas sealed in high-level lock down.

Luke opened the crate of sabers and dumped them all into the corridors of the Jedis' cells.

And Han turned the corner with Chewie and Ben and found that hitch—at last.

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When Fade brought Leia through the final wall, telling her Kenobi and the others were around the corner, Leia asked herself why it was surprising they found the men in the midst of a firefight.

General Kenobi was easy to spot; deftly waving his lightsaber to and fro, blocking the bolts only to send them back to their troopers. But, who were the man and Wookie?

The men were doing well, but were vastly outnumbered. Leia gave Fade a weary look and sigh, and pulled out her belt's pistol and lifted her rifle.

Most of the men were down and dead before they even realized there was someone shooting them from behind.

Kenobi finished off the remaining ones; the dark-haired man and Wookie only gawked at her in amazement.

"I'm assuming you're the men here to…rescue me?" she asked sweetly.

"Whoa," the man said as Kenobi smiled and extinguished his saber.

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Luke watched with a relishing grin as the Jedi emerged from their cells, each summoning their respective lightsaber their extended hands.

The troopers wasted no time in unholstering their blasters and firing on the robed Jedi.

But, it was clear this battle wouldn't take long.

And then Luke sensed it: the rebel prisoners leaving their cells and heard the Jedi call for them to stay behind them.

And the sense of one man in particular…Luke gasped and dropped from the ceiling just as a rebel was about to catch a bolt to the head. He landed on top of the man and pulled him into an open cell just in time.

The man struggled till he saw Luke's mask.

"Spek? Is it really you?"

Luke embraced the man tightly, feeling his throat tighten. "Yeah, yeah, Biggs; it me."

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Luke pulled from Biggs reluctantly; he'd been so worried about his closest friend since he had left Luke's…team to join the rebellion.

Biggs and Luke had been friends briefly on Tatooine before Luke's kidnapping so long ago. Biggs and Luke only had the vaguest childhood memories of playing together on that arid world, but when Biggs had left their world for the Imperial Academy and later defected after uncovering the awful, morbid truth of what the Empire was, he had tried to locate an Alliance operative, only to fall into an Imperial trap.

Luke had been on that world at the same time, finishing a job and had heard the blaster fire and watched the Imps taking their prisoners away; he had seen Biggs among them and the Force had revealed that in was in fact Biggs; Luke's old friend from another life ago.

Luke had killed the Imps and commandeered their ship; after releasing the prisoners he had offered to bring them to the Alliance himself, which he did, but after telling Biggs in secret his real identity, Biggs happily stayed and joined Luke's organization.

But, his friend later seemed to change his mind; he told Luke after a year or so that he was happy Luke was alive, and didn't really regret joining, but wanted now to assist the Alliance. He said he wanted to join the rebels who were openly defying the Empire, not doing so from the shadows.

Luke had understood; he and Biggs had parted on good terms, with Luke assuring Biggs he'd be welcomed back at any time.

Biggs had smiled and told him he'd keep it in mind—and told Luke to not worry about him.

But Luke had worried; he had kept an eye on Biggs through the Force and his spy-net…till Biggs had vanished.

He had led a raid on an Imperial outpost in the Outer Rim systems…Luke had lost all trace of him after and had feared the worst—till Fade had promised Luke she hadn't felt Biggs' death; ergo he had to still be alive.

And now, here he was; gaunt and obviously tortured…but alive.

"I was so worried."

"I told you not to worry."

"And look how that turned out," Luke deadpanned.

Biggs sighed and nodded, getting it. The sounds of resonating sabers and blaster fire hadn't abated. Luke pulled out a vibro-blade and blaster, handing both to Biggs.

"Stay behind me; I'm not gonna prison-break you just for you to die on me."

Biggs grinned. "Assassin of so little faith," he said dryly.

Luke only gave him a look, which he knew Biggs would catch even with the helmet in the way.

The other snickered. "Lead on Spek; it looks like I'm back on your team."

"And it's about time," was the quipped response.

They made for the door and into the fray.

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**A/N: **OK, now we got Biggs! And Leia kicking a$$! Hope y'all like. More is coming soon; so plz review! Till later!


	15. Chapter 15: Jedi

**A/N:** Wow, today alone 568 ppl read this fic! I'm uber blown! You all are SO awesome for reading and supporting; I'm super humbled and shocked that this fic has received so much attention—not cause SW isn't epic, cause it is…but that something I wrote is getting so many wonderful readers! Thx a billion for reading and enjoying; it totally continues to blow my mind! 3 So, here we go y'all! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 15: Jedi Knights _

Luke pulled Biggs out of the line of fire and to one side as a tidal wave of Force power washed over him—

The Jedi.

He had accomplished the impossible more often than he had ever hoped to keep count of; had triumphed over incomprehensible odds, spat in the face of certain disaster, swaggered away from catastrophes uncounted….

And watching the Jedi still plowed him down with disbelief.

They were incredible; there was no other way of putting it. Something about their manner of fighting, their technique left him awestruck.

Biggs cocked his blaster as Luke watched flashing lightsabers easily block bolts and methodically hit the control consoles, strike the blaster-hands of the officers and troopers and Force blasts sending the Imps into the walls, only to fall unconscious to the floor.

Then it hit him why: they weren't killing.

He always killed; it was simply safer that way. No survivors meant no pursuers.

He admired their gallantry; but he didn't agree with it. Mercy was more often than not foolish.

Foolish people died; the Jedi Order was all but extinct.

His case was made, so far as he could see.

But, their sense of nobility was still…commendable.

He readied his weapons and glanced at Biggs. "Stay behind me."

It wasn't a request; he saw Biggs realize that.

"I don't need protecting," his friend still objected.

"Uh, who's breaking _who_ out of prison again?"

Biggs tightened his mouth in a thin line. Luke patted his shoulder. "Exactly."

"I'll remember this the next time _you're_ in trouble."

"We're in a firefight; I'm in trouble now."

Biggs sputtered. "Let's go."

Luke snickered and they dove in.

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Luke and Biggs leapt from the safety of their borrowed cell and nimbly dodged and wove to the fore of what was left of the battle. One Jedi in particular was leading the Jedis' offensive, a very tall human with dark skin wielding a purple lightsaber. The handle was trimmed with gold.

Luke blinked, recognizing that weapon from the Temple records.

No; it couldn't be.

It was Mace Windu.

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Mace countered another blast and through the Force directed his fellow Jedi to position themselves just so to block their opponents in. These Imperial soldiers had no chance against seasoned Jedi, but Mace wasn't interested in taking risks, or killing unnecessarily.

He could sense Obi-Wan nearby.

And he could see the tempest of fury that was Darth Vader closing in on him.

They had to intervene, quickly.

He kept part of his awareness on the small group of rebel officers that had been imprisoned with them in his mental sight; they had all found stray blasters and were contributing to the fray, but he didn't want one of them catching a wandering blaster bolt just the same.

But, he couldn't help but be intrigued when he felt the vaguest tingle of the Force followed by one of the rebels' minds spiking in shock and amazement, then infinite relief. He had sensed something of friendship and had assumed that perhaps the rebel had been reunited with an old friend also taken prisoner, but…the Force told him no, it was something else.

And then he had heard 'Spek' in the rebel's thoughts; and it had hit him.

The Specter; the famous assassin was here, he had been the one to free them—and the rebel officer was his good friend.

Incredible; so long with the Force and still Mace would have never seen this one coming.

He grinned; well, that simply meant the universe out there hadn't changed that much after all.

He caught in his peripherals a young Lieutenant with short dark hair and chiseled face raise a blaster in his direction; he readied himself.

Then a flash of movement caught his attention.

It was the Specter himself—lunging towards the young Imp officer.

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The Force bellowed an alarm to Luke just as he saw Master Windu raise his saber to deflect the blast of an officer craftily taking refuge between two control panels. From his position it would be easy to him to duck under fire, even with his massive bulk and height.

Wait, that huge frame and squared jaw looked familiar.

Oh, no; it suddenly struck Luke why the man's voice had sounded so familiar before.

He sprung towards the man before he could fire at the Jedi only to have it returned his way.

Whack!

Biggs kept low, firing cover for himself and Luke and chased after the pair as they tumbled down an adjacent corridor and over a guard rail.

"Ah!" they both shouted.

Biggs only shook his head, leaving the blaster fire and humming sabers behind and watched the pair tumble down some metal steps before crashing into the far wall of a nearby landing.

"Just like old times," he mumbled dryly before racing to catch up with them.

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"Spek!" the Imp officer hissed, "Are you insane? What are you doing here!?"

Luke only raised his hands in disbelief. "Saving you for starters from getting shot up by a Jedi Master."

The other man growled angrily as Biggs came to quick halt behind them. The Imperial spun on him.

"Tank! Stars! What are you doing here!?"

Tank holstered his blaster and exhaled sharply. "Facing court-martial or execution for what I'm about to do; or rather, not do."

Biggs only shook his head in disbelief. "You were caught by the Empire; we searched for you for months; even now Link and Mouse are scouring all over for you. What happened?"

Luke rose behind them and dusted himself off. There were no cameras around so he felt safe taking off his helmet. He shook his blonde hair loose. "You joined them; why? Was it that or the firing squad?" his tone was emotionless. He caught Tank, or Janek rather, shudder.

"Yeah," his friend said softly, putting his head down, "I didn't betray you guys, I swear. I never said anything." He ran a large hand through his short black hair, now cut in the efficient Imperial style, Luke noted already. "High Command offered me a chance to 'repay' the Empire through serving in return for my…past."

"So you have to pay penance for fighting for freedom," Luke flatly quipped, "forget it Tank; we're liberating the Jedi and rebels, come with us."

"No," Tank hastily retorted, riveting to Luke, "I'm sorry Spek, but I won't risk it; not again." Guilt and a faint shade of shame crossed his eyes. "Not even for you two," he added his tone remorseful. "You…you can stand those camps; the torture…I…I saw what they do to people who turn on them after being given another chance." He gulped and Luke felt a stab of pity for not being able to rescue him; he always seemed to let down only those closest to him.

"I'm…I'm sorry Tank; I should have…."

"No, it's not your fault," Tank cut in, raising a hand, "or you Biggs," he amended, glancing at the other man, "I'll never betray you guys, but I won't go back either." He put his head down and let out a resigning breath. "I've been dealt my hand; I have to live with it. You guys go, get out of here."

Luke sighed, donned his intimidating helmet. "All right," he conceded, his voice now changed back to its ominous counterpart, "we won't force you to come back with us." He reached out and embraced Tank tightly; the other returned it without hesitation. "Just, take care, okay?"

"I will," Janek whispered, "you both do the same."

They parted and Biggs embraced him next. "Don't make us worry," the older man insisted.

"I won't," Tank promised. With his back turned to Luke, he didn't see the shorter man raise a fist.

It connected with the back of Tank's head. With a gasping moan, he crumpled in Biggs' arms. Biggs slowly set him down.

"Knew you were gonna do that," he shortly said.

"If we just walked away and the Empire came on Tank with no injuries, they'd know he let us go," Luke supplied, "I'm not gonna endanger him."

"We could just take him with us," Biggs offered, "the Empire would just assume it's a hostage taking or kidnapping an officer to get Imperial secrets."

Luke shook his head. "Too risky; the Empire might rightly guess our motive; Tank _is_ only a Lieutenant." Biggs sighed.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He looked up and took Tank's blaster. He stood, now doubly armed, plus another pistol in his belt. "We should find your friends."

Luke nodded.

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The Force guided Mace to pursue the Specter and his companion after they had taken care of the Imps in the detention area. They came across the fallen officer the Specter had tackled; but moved on after they discerned he was only unconscious and not mortally wounded.

"Why do you suppose an assassin would help us, Master?" one of the Knights asked.

Mace shook his hairless head. "I'm not certain, but the Force has marked his steps, taking him to us—and us to him. In time, I have no doubt the Force will reveal why."

"I can sense Master Kenobi," another Jedi softly put in.

"As do I," Windu agreed, his eyes narrowed with purpose. The Specter was nearby. They rounded a corner to find a…kitchenette?

The Specter had just resealed his full helmet and face mask; an empty cup of caf sat on a small table beside him. The young rebel finished his, put it down and bowed politely.

"Master Windu, it's an honor to meet you," the mustached man said, his smile warm and open.

Specter didn't bow, but leaned against the table, arms folded.

"We decided to wait for you to catch up," was all he said, his tone civil, but slightly sarcastic.

What was it about this man that reminded him of young Anakin Skywalker?

Mace narrowed one eye at the faceless figure. This would prove interesting; he straightened.

"Well, Specter I presume?"

The figure nodded—

"A pleasure," Mace said, his voice all business, "I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long."

The Specter snickered, the rebel elbowed him discreetly.

"Not at all," the rebel said, nodding amiably, "we were thirsty anyways. I'm Biggs Darklighter by the way," and he offered a hand, which Mace shook heartily; at least one of them had manners, "shall we?" and the boy waved.

"By all means," Mace agreed, and gestured for the Jedi to follow. He met the Specter's mask.

"Lead on, if you please," his tone was flat. Specter gave a 'noble' nod of acquiescence.

"This way," the formidable voice said, drawing a highly modified blaster and made for the nearest corridor. The group followed.

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Vader let his rage take hold of him when he sensed it—

The Jedi had escaped. And he had felt the stormtroopers fall before them.

He hoped they enjoyed their pitiful victory; it would be short-lived.

As would they.

Tarkin's precious plan had reached its full pathetic culmination; the DS1 was overwhelmed with viruses and hacker-invasion, the Jedi and rebels captured were free—

And the Specter was most definitely here; only one man could infiltrate a battle-station of this elite level undetected, let alone wreak this much havoc and liberate the Jedi and rebels.

All under Tarkin's beaked nose; Vader held back the snicker.

It was all so…pleasing. He'd destroy the Jedi and the insipid Governor's 'prestige' in one day.

He lifted his eyes; there stood the ship which brought Kenobi; Vader waited in the small observation area beside the hanger. The dark side whispered he had to do nothing; the Jedi would come to him.

And more importantly, the infamous assassin would as well.

Vader waited, dark rage churning within him like black lava.

Soon; soon it would be unleashed.

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When Tank came too, an aide was shaking him.

"Sir? Sir?"

Tank raised a hand to stave off more jostling and moaned. "I'm…all right," he said with a groan, and rubbed the back of his head. A large knot where Luke had connected a fist with his skull throbbed beneath his fingers.

Blast it all; he should have seen that coming. He groaned again, painfully rising. He waited for the room to quit spinning.

"What is the situation?" he asked when his stomach ceased rolling.

"Chaos," the aide said bluntly, "all communications are down, the Jedi and rebels escaped, and…we don't even know the full damage. Men are saying they think the Specter is responsible. His network is the only thing that could do this; even the Bothans aren't this good."

Tank tried to chuckle, but only moaned again. "We'll do our best. See to the injured first. Techs are trying to reestablish communications?"

"Yessir."

"Good; till, we'll try to manually open the doors."

"We already are sir; all the emergency locks have sealed too, that's the problem. We have men trying to cut through them with the laser-drills now."

"Good; carry on soldier."

"Yessir."

The man rose and hurried away; Tank wobbled but got to his feet and stretched. He ached all over. Rubbing the back of his head again, he felt a dribble of dried blood; not enough to worry about though.

Luke had been careful then; he had assumed as much. His friend had only done it to protect him from suspicion anyways; it had taken all of two seconds to figure that much out. Tank sighed.

He had so wished there had been time to try and convince Luke and Biggs to join him; to abandon their criminal lives and the three of them could be a team again. Tank smiled sadly.

They had been the unstoppable trio before; no job too dangerous, no risk too impossible.

But, those days were over; but Tank still missed it: the commeraderie, the jokes and laughs shared, the taste of victory when they celebrated together.

The genuine friendship he always felt from both of them; no ulterior motives, no stabs in the back, no need to always be on guard.

Tank sighed again. No; this was his life now, he had to accept it.

He steadied himself and returned to the detention center; at least he did so as an officer and not as a prisoner.

He'd never be a prisoner again; he gulped and kept the thought at bay that he was a prisoner still—just of a different sort now.

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Leia didn't like it when Obi-Wan insisted after their brief reunion that he had to venture off by himself.

"Leia, if I go alone, I'll be far more able to remain unseen. The tractor beam was not shut down with the other programs; it apparently runs off a separate generator."

"Figures," the man, called Han apparently, had muttered.

Obi-Wan vanished into another hall after assuring them he'd catch up later and urged them to find 'Luke,' whoever that was.

It was her; the captain and the Wookie after that; and the ghostly cat too, Fade.

"How far away is this guy, Luke?" Leia had asked.

_He is Specter, _Fade had clarified_, and he is near. He has the Jedi and rebel prisoners with him._

Han chuckled. "Knew the kid'd get them out without a hitch." He sighed and checked his blaster. "At least the kid can escape hitches."

He sounded part envious, part resentful.

Apparently, this captain and 'hitches,' were close friends, because no sooner had he said that when they rounded a corner—

And found themselves face to face with about 50 stormtroopers.

"It's them!" one cried. "Blast 'em!"

And the blaster fire spewed like fireworks.

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**A/N: **Well, hope you all liked! Plz review!


	16. Chapter 16: Chase

**A/N:** Hey y'all; thanks for bearing w/ me and being so patient. I took one more class for spring semester and am buried under homework again. I'm trying to update my 3 fanfics between assignments, but it's kinda tricky; so thanks again and here we go! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.16—Chase _

"Get back to the ship!" Han yelled to the others as he shot one of the stormtroopers and chased after them.

Chewie only bellowed, running after Han, probably shouting at him to come back.

Fade and Leia only looked at each other. Leia wondered why this didn't surprise her at all.

"He certainly has courage," she remarked.

_Yes, but what good will it do him if he gets himself killed? _Fade replied.

"I suppose we should save the men again?" Leia asked.

Fade only nodded. Leia cocked her weapons and raced after them.

She also made a point of shouting too—she couldn't let the boys have all the fun, after all.

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As Ben pulled down the tractor beam lever, the second announcement came over the DS's intercom that 'the intruders' were now in several different groups. The speakers were terribly garbled and could hardly been understood, but the Force filled in the blanks for Kenobi.

He could sense Mace Windu, plus other Jedi Generals; he heaved a sigh of relief.

It felt so wondrous, so liberating, to be near fellow Jedi again.

He sensed many younger Jedi, Padawans and newly Knighted Jedi; most he didn't recognize, but the older Jedi, yes, he felt surrounded by the presences of many long-lost friends.

He held back a shudder of exhilaration as he crept back into the deserted corridors.

The Jedi were nearby—with Luke and a few rebel officers taken prisoner.

He snuck off in their direction.

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Leia could scarcely believe she was living this; it had to be some mad dream.

She had pursued after Han and Chewie, rounding a corner with Fade to find the men concealed behind metal bracing in the walls, firing at the soldiers while arguing with each other on their next move.

Uh; didn't they realize the stormtroopers could hear them!?

So, Fade grabbed Leia just before she got shot and phased her through a wall; then up on onto the gangplanks over the battle. Leia nodded her thanks and pulled out some grenades and smoke bombs.

"This should do it," she told the Ethereal, and threw them into the Imps, but far enough away from Han and Chewie that they should be safe.

The explosions were blinding this close, the shock wave threw Leia back with a yell and pinned her against a near wall. When she opened her eyes after the thunderous blasting was over and the shock waves mostly receded, all she saw was grey and black smoke.

She coughed, trying to wave it away. "Fade?"

_I'm here; hold on._

Then Leia felt the cool, breezy touch of a tail entwining around her arm; and the strange slick feeling of ghosting.

_You adapt to this very well; most humans become ill when phasing at first._

"I try to be adaptable," was the matter-of-fact reply (though she blushed at the praise), when they were back in the corridor.

She heard the men coughing. "Leia? Where are you?"

"Here."

"Where did you get those bombs?"

Leia grinned at Fade, barely discernible in the smoke.  
"Oh…don't you know? They're the latest accessory for royals these days. You know, the fan, the jewels, and small bombs. All the princesses have them."

Han came out of the smoke, looking dubious, but her tone was so convincing; he looked torn between believing her or not.

"Uh huh," was all he said, deadpanning.

Leia only smiled and batted her eyes. "Shall we?"

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Han had to admit, he liked the princess's spunk.

Yeah, she was gorgeous, she was decisive and all that; but he liked her attitude.

The sarcasm, the witty shots, that almost naughty sparkle in her eye, he had to grin.

A pity all princesses didn't act like her; he would've had more sympathies for the rich elitists of the galaxy if all their daughters were like Leia.

As they carefully made their way to the ship, the thought came to him that if all the royal daughters had this much gusto, fewer of their houses would be under the Imperial heel.

"How far?" the princess suddenly asked.

Han did some mental estimating. "We should be coming to the ship now; unless another hitch gets us first."

"Captain, could you please at least try to be optimistic?"

Han sputtered. "Your Worshipfulness, live one day of my life; then ask me that again."

"I think I am; right now—and we're fine."

"Yeah; yeah, for now. But you just wait and see, we'll turn a corner and"—

And they just happened to turn a corner as they said that…and there was another battalion of stormtroopers waiting for them.

"See?" Han said triumphantly. "Just like I said."

Leia gave him a look.

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When Ben rounded the corner, he found himself face-to-face with a dark, formidable figure in black body armor, his face completely concealed by a frightening helmet and face mask.

For a moment, he thought of Anakin; his throat closed. He threw his arms around the figure, crushing him in a fierce hug.

"Oh, Luke; you have no idea what it means to me to see you alive."

He heard a soft chuckle. "I think I can, actually."

Ben reluctantly parted, heartened when 'Specter' gave him an amiable pat on the shoulder.

"It's good to meet you at last, General Kenobi."

"Please, call me Ben."

"Ahem," a new voice said, "but I can still call you Obi-Wan, right?"

Lead by a boy who could only be about five years Luke's senior, the Jedi came into view…and right behind the other boy was Mace Windu.

Kenobi shook his head in disbelief. "Master Windu, you look as though no time has passed at all." For a moment, it was easy to believe that no time had passed; that he had just returned to Coruscant just before Palpatine took over; that there was still time to stop the Empire's terrible rise.

But no; it was not to be. He sighed, but returned the embrace when Mace's arms came around him.

"Obi-Wan; I never gave up believing you were alive."

He nodded against Mace's shoulder. "Master Windu; it does me so much good to see you survived." He pulled away just enough to meet his master's eyes. "But, how? I saw you face Sidious and fall; it was in the Temple holo-records."

Mace nodded. "Fortunately for me, it didn't end there." He offered Obi-Wan his trade-mark 'let's do the impossible and make it took easy' grin. "So, there are a few faces I think you'll recall." He gestured to the other Jedi. One in particular made Obi-Wan gape in amazement.

"Master Luminara!?"

"Greetings, General Kenobi," she said, her teeth blazingly white against her dusty mint skin and facial tattoos.

"I…I," Ben said, shaking his head in astonishment. "This is such a day…."

"Yes," Specter cut in, firmly but not rude, "and I'd like to keep these Jedi alive, so let's go, please. We can do reunions after we're all off this thing." He nodded to the other boy—Biggs—he got from the young man's thoughts and moved on.

The Jedi, rebel prisoners and Kenobi followed after. Biggs gave Ben a sheepish look.

"Sorry, he's just nervous. Vader being here and all."

Ben nodded. "His concerns are well-placed. I should be the one apologizing. I…simply forgot myself." He put his head down.

Mace clapped his shoulder. "No; nobody has to apologize about anything. Let's just find the princess, get out of here and join the rebels." He fingered his lightsaber though.

"You know Vader will try to stop us," Ben said.

Mace nodded. "But he won't succeed."

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Finally, finally, they were one level over the ship. Leia peered down at the…'craft' that was going to fly her from this monstrosity, and it took all her self- control to not gape.

It was just thing after another with this Captain.

After they had run into 'some old friends,' Chewie and Han had broken apart, Han grabbing the princess while Fade raced after the Wookie.

Han and Leia had led the troopers on a merry chase, through dorms and cafeterias (Han had slipped on some spilled food and slid into another group of troopers who had come in, knocking them all down), and Leia had found a trash compactor chute that she had shot open and yanked Han into before he was shot.

After they 'gracefully' landed, Han yelling sarcastically and saying something about: 'what an incredible smell you've discovered' Fade phased in with Chewbacca.

"Please get us out of here before I shoot us out," Han flatly told the cat.

_These walls are blast-protected; if you shoot, it'll ricochet till it hits something—probably you._

"Oh."

Fade told them to all take hands as she wrapped herself around Leia and phased them out.

Han eyed a brown sofa which perched atop the highest pile of refuse just before vanishing through the wall. Too bad; that sofa looked kinda nice-would have been great for the _Falcon_.

The trash compactor ground into action a second later.

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Luke's body was practically shaking, he was on so high alert.

Vader was very near; the brassy taste of danger was thick on his tongue. The rest of his mouth was filled with a sharp putrid taste: darkness.

Death.

It actually made his sinuses hurt, when the Falcon came into distant view. Escape for them was so close.

But Vader stood in their way.

Where was he!? Luke didn't like not seeing a foe. Even with the tech in his helmet's viewing screen, Vader was invisible. Luke ground his teeth when he recalled Vader also wore a helmet, with full face mask and therefore, a viewing screen too.

He probably knew all the tricks then as well. Blast it anyways.

He heard the pounding of footsteps; Fade slid up beside him. He gave her a relieved smile and turned.

"Well, it's about time Han. Did you have fun sightseeing?"

"Don't even get me started, kid," was the snappy reply. Luke only chuckled.

"Chewie, please tell me he wasn't too much trouble."

Chewie only guffawed out a chuckle. Han glowered and shook his head.

"Get us out of here, kid."

"My pleasure."

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**A/N: **OK, that's it for now. Yes, the bit about the couch was from Family Guy: Blue Harvest, just cause I thought that part was SO funny! Enjoy; plz leave a review!


	17. Chapter 17: Foreboding

**A/N:** Thanks for reading! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.17—Foreboding _

Han tried to not think about how close the ship was.

When he got his hopes up, disaster always came to trample them down; ergo, he never hoped.

But, he also never let himself think of the odds.

So, he definitely was not thinking about how nearly impossible the odds were that they'd even reach the ship with Vader on this station.

Vader had to know the Jedi had escaped. Han and Chewie were surrounded by Jedi as they made for the hanger. So…no; he wasn't thinking about the odds.

And he definitely was not thinking about the princess walking grimly beside him, her rifle ready and her gorgeous face etched in sober lines.

He wasn't thinking about how, after escaping the compactor (which had been her terrible idea!), they had been forced to flee again from troopers, who they managed to evade, but only by running themselves into a antechamber with a huge, gaping ravine between them and escape!

Han had shot the control board, which forced the blast-doors to close, but then when Leia asked him to find the controls that extended the bridge…oops.

He admitted he probably just shot them.

"What do we do?" Leia exclaimed, looking to Fade.

_I might be able to fly you across, one by one, _the cat mused.

Then the blaster fire had started—from the artificial canyon's other side.

Han shoved Leia behind him and told her and Chewie to return fire, which they did, till Fade flew across and whacked the troopers into unconsciousness with her tail.

"Handy little fluff-ball, isn't she?" Han asked as he worked.

He pulled a metal rope from his belt, with grappling hook on one end, threw it expertly.

It snagged into a metal niche, held firmly when he tugged it. He wrapped one arm around the princess and blushed when she blushed—and then kissed his cheek.

"For luck," she said.

They swung across the ravine; Fade wrapping her tail around Chewie under the arms and flying him across behind them.

_You don't expect me to kiss you, do you? _She asked the Wookie, who only laughed loudly and shook his head.

No; Han wasn't going to think about those things, but he did get his blaster ready when Spek raised his hand in a 'stop' signal.

Now what?!

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Ben came up beside Luke. "Vader is nearby," the Jedi observed. "He's scattering his presence, but he's very close."

Luke pulled out another highly modified blaster; mentally catalogued the other weapons on his person.

"Obi-Wan and I will go first," Mace said, drawing near and igniting his saber. He nodded to Obi-Wan, who did the same. "Stay near Luminara; protect the rebels."

"And keep out of sight," Ben firmly added, giving Luke a very sober stare, "he must not see you, no matter what."

"You know who you're speaking to, right?" Luke asked. He didn't need protecting.

"Yes: Anakin's son." His tone was soft enough that only Luke heard.

There was something…powerful? Foreboding? Impacting? About how Obi-Wan said that. It washed over Luke, rejuvenating him right to his core, awakening a sense of identity in his that he hadn't known in his entire life.

Yes, he knew who he was; but hearing another say it, somehow made an entirely new difference.

"Help when you can, but remain unseen," Ben instructed, squeezing his shoulder. Luke nodded.

Mace gestured gravely to Obi-Wan when the Jedi turned to him and the two advanced.

Luke readied his weapons, nodded to the others in the group to do the same. The five rebels with them cocked their blasters, the Jedi lit their sabers. Luminara halted just beside him.

"No matter what, the princess must escape," she said.

Luke nodded.

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"Hey boss," Link commed in.

"Yeah," Luke whispered.

"Just so you know, we got the plans for this terror off your suit and with what Noc gave us; we just sent it off to Garm Bel-Iblis with news that you're on DS1 now, and you got the princess out. What do you need?"

Luke thought. "A blackout," he said.

"On it," he and Mouse replied gleefully.

"I'll give you the signal when," Luke added, gesturing to Fade. She floated over; Han, Leia and Chewie right behind. Biggs lingered near Luminara, his eyes darting everywhere.

"Okay," Luke began, "we're just a few halls from the ship. Fade will still ghosting people through and onto the Falcon; rebels and you all first"—

"No way," Han interrupted, "I go when you do."

"Me too," Leia put in; Chewie harned agreement.

"No arguing," Luke harshly said, "Vader is nearby; the Jedi can at saber-fight, Vader would just cut all of you down."

Angry glares were thrown at him, but no debating. Luke considered his point made. "Rebels first, Leia you can go after them if you want, but no longer than that. Fade, get to it." He turned to the rebels. "Join hands. And take a deep breath. This'll feel weird."

They did, Luke pulled Biggs to them when he said he wanted to stay with the princess and smugglers; Luke ignored his objections. "Take Biggs too."

Fade nodded. Biggs impaled him with a lethal glare. Luke shrugged.

"You're back on my team, remember?"

"Apparently you won't let me forget."

"Not a second time; no."

And then Fade pulled them through the nearest wall.

Luke sighed in relief. Biggs was safe, finally.

He only wished Tank were too.

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Fade phased back to them just as the group commed Threepio and Artoo to ensure they were safe. Threepio assured them they were. "We're in the hanger just across from the ship," he told Han via comm.

"We're one level from you," the captain said, "stand by."

Leia peered through the adjacent doorway to take in the ship. She gave Han an amused grin. "You came in that thing? You're even braver than I thought."

Han rolled his eyes as Luke chuckled. "Nice."

"You'd like my ship better," Luke commented.

Leia gave him a concerned look. "That's right; your ship is here too. You're not going to just leave it behind?"

"No; don't worry, I've that got that all covered."

Leia nodded. Obi-Wan, far ahead, gestured for them that it was clear.

At least it was, until Vader came into view, on the other end of the hall.

Nowhere to run, except to the ship; until the stormtroopers and officers appeared, blasters ready—

"And here's the hitch I was waiting for," Han snarked. Leia elbowed him.

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**A/N: **Well, that's it for now! Enjoy; plz leave a review!


	18. Chapter 18: Blackout

**A/N: **OK, so stuff is heating up? You glad I brought back Luminara? I hope so; explanations to come. Onward! Vader is on the scene!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.18—Blackout _

Luke didn't let himself think when he saw the tall, looming figure in black armor, blood-red saber humming hungrily as if eager to tear into Jedi flesh.

The lightsaber, more snarling than humming, was partly drowned out by the awful sound of Vader breathing.

Luke whipped out an electronic-over-rider, and shot it at the nearest blast doors.

They slammed shut behind Obi-Wan and Windu, sealing them in with Vader. Luminara spun on him.

"Why-!?"

"Because Ben and Windu said they'd take care of Vader," Luke hotly shot back, "and Fade hasn't gotten the rest of the rebels out"—

He was cut off by blaster fire.

Oh yeah; the troopers. They had formed a wall between the rebels and the _Falcon_. Luke yelled for them to find cover; though the Jedi advanced, deflecting blaster bolts with their sabers. They formed a wall of their own and pressed forward, a breathtaking display of flashing lights and blazing courage.

Telekinetic attacks sent troopers and officers flying into walls from all directions.

Luke tried to not feel like a traitor as he shielded the others, but he hadn't seen any other way.

He assured himself that Ben and Mace would be fine.

He forced himself to focus instead on how perfectly Han and Leia's fighting styles complimented each other.

Doubts still gnawed his insides though.

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Vader couldn't have been more delighted.

Just before the blast doors slammed loudly shut, cutting Kenobi and Windu from aid—or escape—Vader had caught a glimpse of a figure in black body armor; a strange transparent creature beside him.

It had to have been Specter.

And he delivered the Jedi right to Vader; how very gratifying.

He glanced fleetingly at Windu who only glowered soberly at him, saber raised, before turning to his one-time 'master.'

The betrayer who had once called him 'friend' long, long ago.

"We meet again, Obi-Wan," he ground out threateningly, as Kenobi only fixed wary eyes on him, "the circle is now complete. When I left you I was but a learner," he raised his own weapon and hissed, "now I am the master."

Obi-Wan shook his head, and something flitted across his eyes. Sadness? Regret?

It mattered not.

"Only a master of evil," Obi-Wan declared, his tone lamenting, almost grieving.

That only spurred Vader's anger. He lunged at them with a yell, easily deflecting their attacks and using the Force to throw Windu viciously into the nearest wall before aiming to impale Kenobi with his saber.

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The Jedi had harmoniously worked to overwhelm the troopers without killing (Luke sighed) and Han shouted for them to all make for the ship.

He, Leia, the Wookie and Fade did, Noc flew out of a nearby air-vent and hovered near Fade, wings flapping neatly.

The Jedi all made for the adjacent chamber, where, now that they were all in the hanger, Vader with Mace and Ben were in clear view.

"Get to the ship!" Luke yelled. The Jedi ignored him, all running at Vader.

Luke's insides were wrenched by a horrific foreboding. His mouth filled with the taste of blood.

Vader countered a hit from Kenobi and grabbed his throat with the Force lifting him into the air and casting him aside. He faced the Jedi, saber ready.

Luke could have sworn he saw the feral grin of glee on the dark lord's masked face.

Vader did nothing as the Jedi all surrounded him, Luminara included.

"You're outnumbered, Vader," she sharply avowed, "surrender."

Vader's chuckle was blood-chilling. Luke cringed as the Sith declared: "I am outnumbered, Jedi…but hardly out matched."

His tone was daring them. Many of the younger Jedi yelled and dived at him.

But only Luke saw Vader whip out a second lightsaber and ignite it just as the impetuous Jedi reached him.

Luke swallowed hard as Vader neatly, expertly, cut down seven or eight of the Jedi, blood spattering the ground (though not much) as they cried out and fell.

Dead.

The other Jedi raised their weapons, but none moved.

"Come," Vader taunted them, "prove now that light cannot be extinguished by dark…unless you fear me."

His tone was saturated with sarcasm.

"A Jedi does not know fear," Luminara bit out.

Ben rose; Mace right behind. They glanced at each other to ensure there were no serious injuries.

"A Jedi only knows the Force," Mace said, re-lighting his weapon.

Ben pursed his lips, something like concern crossing his face—as he looked at Vader.

"Surrender," he said, his voice almost pleading, "you know this will not end well."

"It shan't," Vader coolly agreed, "for you." He lifted both weapons, but then the rumbling started.

Heavy machinery all around them itself from walls, the flooring, the ceilings, everywhere and threw itself at the Jedi, bombarding them. The Jedi shouted and countered the attacks, which left themselves open to Vader.

Luke glanced behind him as Vader jumped forward, his skill terrifying as he nimbly moved through his army of flying metal, battling Jedi, beheading many, and cutting limbs from others.

Blood smattered everywhere.

Han and the others were all on the ramp of the ship, firing at Vader; the dark lord barely noticed as he waved the sabers deftly the counter the fire. He didn't even appear to be actually fighting, no.

He was reveling, savoring this moment. Luke swallowed.

He had to do something and he knew what it had to be.

He had to use the Force…and reveal to Vader he was a sensitive.

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Easily a dozen of the 25 escaped Jedi were dead; Obi-Wan shouted for them to make for the ship, only to be shouted back to that no one would abandon him or Windu.

They would fight together, or they would die together.

No, Ben thought, this cannot be our end.

Vader cut down another two Jedi; Luminara bore many wounds on her arms, her cultural robes torn in many places. She gave Ben a determined look.

She wasn't ready to give up; neither was he.

They charged Vader together.

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"Guys," Luke ordered Link and Mouse, "on my mark, cut the hanger off from the rest of the Death Star. Seal all chambers."

"Right," Link said, "what about the Jedi?"

"Vader has drawn them into the hanger," Luke said, "keep the ante-chamber open, the one he first appeared in."

"Gotcha."

Luke heard the creaking and moaning of metal as the many doors closed.

"Now seal the ante-chamber from everything but the hanger itself."

"Okay."

Two more doors closed.

"Fabulous. Implement the blackout in ten seconds."

"Roger that."

Luke put away his blasters; he wouldn't need them. He waited for the right moment, when Vader would have no Jedi at his back.

It came.

He Force-pushed Vader as hard as he could in the direction of the ante-chamber, simultaneously Force-pushing the Jedi towards the ship.

He ran towards Vader as Jedi flew in the other direction.

The blackout struck. "Get to the ship!" he yelled to the Jedi. "I'll buy you time!"

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**A/N: **Hope you're liking! Plz review!


	19. Chapter 19: Dark Lord

**A/N:** Thanks so much for reading! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.19—Dark Lord _

As Luke leapt into the ante-chamber, he ordered Link to seal the final door behind him.

The door clanked loudly shut. He was now trapped in the chamber, with Vader.

But, the Jedi would have no choice now but to flee; he called out to Fade in the Force and told her to seize them if need be…but get them out.

She replied grimly she would.

Vader fluidly rose; Luke made his body go lax.

He wasn't a Jedi.

He wasn't a Knight.

He was an assassin.

He would fight like one.

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Vader regarded the puny fool who deigned to sacrifice himself to ensure the little princess and the mewling Jedi escaped.

He grinned; an assassin indeed.

No assassin was so selfless, no this man was an imposter—a false assassin.

So…what was this man truly after then if not credits, and why masquerade as a heartless killer?

Aside from deceitful, Vader was certain of one thing:

The man was Force-sensitive. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

He re-lit both sabers. "Brave, assassin, to give your life for the Jedi; brave, but deluded."

The assassin said nothing; he only pulled out two small blades. Vader reflexively wanted to snicker…until the blades grew, tiny portions of themselves reproducing and extending the blades until they were the same elongation as his own weapons.

"Nano-technology," he appraised, "most impressive. Light-saber-proofed as well, I assume." No matter, it would only make this so called 'battle' more entertaining.

He attacked.

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Vader swiped at the assassin again, partly amused and partly annoyed that his foe was so utterly elusive. He was in one place and a second later gone!

He ground his teeth; by now the freighter would be away, the princess and Jedi on board, no doubt mourning the loss of such a 'noble assassin,' but secretly relieved at their escape no less.

Fortunately, the tiny homing beacon he had the techs fasten to their ship would do its work.

The princess was fleeing to her precious rebel base; whether she knew it or not, Vader would get the location out of her, just more subtly.

The assassin adeptly flipped and dodged him, his body incredibly acrobatic and flexible considering the armor.

It was strange really; this man was in some ways a blurred image of Vader himself, the Sith reflected, they both wore black armor, both donned a helmet and face mask; both of their masks were equipped with voice modifiers (he had heard the assassin yell for the Jedi to escape as he had charged Vader), and both went by 'professional' names. Specter was the name of the man this person had _become_, not the person he was born, no more than Vader was, the dark lord was certain of that.

Specter was every bit the galactic enigma Vader was. In a twisted way, they were two of a kind.

And it was twisted; there was nothing noble in assassins' work. It was cowardly, manipulative, carried out in shadow. No; Vader was a warrior: that was honorable. Shooting an enemy whilst he slept held no pride; it was the path of a weakling.

But, as he neatly dodged a blow from the evasive assassin, Vader had to confess to himself that this man was different. He wasn't working in obscurity now; surely Specter knew that black out or no, Vader's viewing screens included night vision. There was no 'day' or 'night' to the dark lord. And while he had discreetly rid himself of those wretched scarlet screens the Emperor had initially designed for him with full spectrum lenses, the night vision remained.

And the Specter, however quick, was always clearly visible. Vader grinned.

This little assassin was becoming more intriguing by the moment; this _Force-sensitive_ assassin, who clearly held some sort of ties to the Jedi, (otherwise why forfeit his own life to save them?) was as far from a typical assassin as Vader was from a 'typical' Jedi-turned-Sith Lord.

That opened up an entirely new set of possibilities.

Was he related to one of the Jedi prisoners? A nephew perhaps? A distant cousin? A sibling maybe?

Specter feinted and cut low, just missing Vader's armor. The dark lord grinned as the other flipped clear of a blow and crouched for the next attack.

"Your skills are remarkably advanced," he remarked, pleased in a way the assassin wasn't speaking. It meant he was focusing on the 'job,' that was acceptable to Vader. It meant he wasn't spewing those ridiculous Jedi maxims at him.

He'd gotten more than enough of that from Kenobi over the years.

It also pleased him that the man didn't have an inflated sense of ability. He was aware of his shortcomings as Vader was; ergo he was maximizing what skills were effective against Vader.

However, no amount of skill could withstand a Sith, but the man was at least being practical and intelligent about his suicide.

Vader grinned; did it have to end so, though? The man was strong with the Force, and while he couldn't fully sense the other's potential (the assassin hid it well), it was apparent to have such a thorough masking ability the man must be strong indeed.

Unless…Vader examined the other's armor again as he closed in to attack, far more ferociously this time; he beat the assassin against a wall, trying to pin him there with the Force.

Of course; the man's armor, it had been augmented to withstand the Force! The assassin suddenly whipped something out of his belt and pressed it.

A blinding flash lit Vader's screen, scorching his vision. He yelled, losing his concentration. The other took the opportunity to break free, scoring several hits on Vader's armor as well.

Vader bellowed his rage; musings now forgotten.

Now he would exact vengeance.

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Luke scoring a lethal blow off of Vader was as likely as Jabba becoming petite overnight, but he still tried. A killing hit wasn't even necessary; just an incapacitating one, one that would give him some time to escape.

He wasn't through with his search; his father was still out there, he wasn't dying today.

"Foolish whelp," Vader growled, seizing him by the throat suddenly with one hand, the second saber now clipped to his belt. Luke was rammed into the wall and while his suit took the brunt of it, pain still rattled through his body. Vader's presence was crushing him now, and onslaught from all sides.

"You are clever, that is apparent; you are prepared and methodical, but all of those things fail before a Sith Lord," Vader ominously declared, and tilted his head to one side, his breathing loud and angry, "and you knew that, didn't you?"

Luke could barely breathe; he could feel Vader pressing against his own defenses, enhanced by his suit.

No; he couldn't break through; his secrecy was his greatest weapon!

He used the Force to make a waterfall of tiny bombs cascade out of concealed compartments all over his suit. They washed over the floor. It was insane, but he detonated them.

The explosions threw him and Vader apart. The dark lord shouted angrily, before collecting himself and flawlessly landed on the chamber's other side.

He was barely scathed! Luke landed less adeptly on the other side. He gulped in air and had only a second to react as Vader lunged at him, sabers both lit.

Apparently the Sith Lord was done playing….

"You are brave, to chance so much," Vader darkly commented as he bombarded Specter with one blow after another. Suit or no, the man inside would tire eventually.

Specter had all of the makings of a great dark lord; the Emperor of course need not know that.

Vader wasn't concerned; he could sense only minute tingles in the Force from Specter. After capturing the man, he'd simply hide him at Bast Castle. He'd train the man in secret; the Emperor would only discover the existence of a third Sith Lord when he and Vader joined forces to kill him.

The dark side howled that yes; this was the path to take! This man was meant to stand at Vader's side!

The assassin was tiring; Vader could see it in his technique, his was switching styles to compensate for waning energy. Then the dark side showed it to him:

A tiny micro-flaw in Specter's suit, where his right arm joined his shoulder.

Vader feinted and sliced; he smiled when the lightsaber cut clean through his armor.

He could smell the cauterized flesh. Specter yelled.

Then his true Force sense washed over Vader. The dark lord stilled for a moment, and then immobilized the boy under a mountain of Force power.

That was what he sensed: _a boy!_

Specter's incredible youth rushed over Vader like white rapids; he couldn't believe it!

A boy? A boy this skilled!? So infamous, so accomplished and feared and renowned!?

_Like Anakin Skywalker had been once, long ago_, a voice said.

True, and on the cusp of youth, raw, massive, monolithic power filled the chamber, absolutely overwhelming and awe-inspiring.

Vader had never sensed such monumental potential before. This boy was no doubt the most powerful Force user in all of history!

What an apprentice he would make. Vader Force-choked the boy before he could rise; this child was going nowhere—but straight to Bast Castle.

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Luke struggled fiercely to move; his muscles were on fire, his lungs burning as he fought to breath and break free.

"It is over," Vader declared, "it is useless to resist. You wield far greater potential than I would have ever anticipated; far too much to waste by killing you."

Luke stilled at that; what did that mean-?

"You will join me," Vader supplied, his tone hard with finality, "you have no other choice."

"N…never," Luke spat, yanking at the Force to help him.

He choked and exhaled roughly when the weight on top of him increased…a lot. Vader snickered.

"You are beaten, and as your superior, I will now become your master."

Luke made some uncooperative noises as he pulled at the Force and his body near-frantically.

"After I teach you submission, it would seem," Vader mused aloud, moving towards him, only one saber ignited now.

Luke never let himself panic before; but he had run out of options! He couldn't move and therefore couldn't fight; it was a battle to simply breathe and it was taking nearly all of his concentration to not pass out under this unbelievable weight Vader had him paralyzed beneath!

But suddenly, he felt something cool and breezy wrap around his foot.

Oh, thank the Force.

He heard Vader yell furiously as he vanished through the floor.

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**A/N: **Enjoy! Plz review! 


	20. Chapter 20: Sight

**A/N:** Thanks a MILLION to the ppl who left reviews on the last chapters; they totally made my DAY! My back went out a couple days ago and it's not getting better. So, aside from reviews, prayers for healing would be much appreciated friends. Take care! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.20—Sight _

Fade phased Luke through about 20 levels before finding a discreet corner in the storage sector to conceal them both so he could rest.

Luke tried to stifle his coughs; the construction in the visible vicinity was naught but metal guardrails, overhangs, eaves, and metal-mesh walls; in other words: every noise reverberated.

_I sense no life near us; we are safe._

"For now," Luke gasped, still struggling to breathe.

_You are badly injured; I can sense—_

"Tell me once we're outta here," Luke said, rising laboriously.

In the next moment, Noc flew out of a grate and up to them. Luke spun on him, and nearly toppled over.

"You were supposed…to leave…with Han," he forced out, panting.

A text box appeared in his viewing screen: _They didn't need me, you do. Let's go; I have the ship fired up and waiting. It's in stealth mode._

And Fade wrapped around Luke and phased them to the hanger; Noc clutching onto Luke's arm.

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When Han and Chewie got the comm signal from _Revenant_, Han was about ready to thank this 'Force,' the Jedi subscribed to so devotedly.

A comm-text asked Han to bring the ship out of light-speed.

"Hey!" the captain yelled behind his shoulder to the group all meandering in the lounge area. "Strap up! I'm taking her outta light speed!"

"Why? What's wrong?!" he heard the princess shout back.

"Luke just commed us to wait for him; he's catching up!"

Loud cheers and a barrage of 'thank the Force's' sounded from down the hall.

Of course, Han could have just commed the lounge, but he and Chewie just always bellowed to each other; why break an established habit when it clearly works?

The _Falcon_ shuddered as it came out of hyper; but there was a small, sleek vessel waiting for them: the _Revenant_.

"The kid did it," Han breathed in amazement, hearing two sets of footsteps pounding their way.

Leia and Ben came bolting into the cockpit; took in the vessel nearby.

"Oh, thank the Force," Kenobi murmured, sounding thoroughly relieved, "he escaped Vader."

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When Luke's ship attached to the _Falcon_'s under-hull, Fade phased him, herself and Noc into the freighter.

Han, Leia, Ben, Chewie and some of the Jedi were waiting, along with Biggs; who was grinding his teeth in tension.

That made Han nervous.

As their transparent forms appeared near the exit-ramp and solidified, Han saw why:

Luke immediately fell over with a groan…and Han caught the slice in his armor-

His supposedly impenetrable armor.

Ben hurried to his crumpled form, asking for a med kit. Chewie knew where it was and so ran to fetch it; Leia wasted no time in helping Ben and Han lift Luke up.

With all that armor, he was a bit heavy.

"Don't know how the kid gets around in this," Han grumbles, "let's take him to my quarters; I've got a bed."

Ben and Han tried to delicately inform Leia it was probably best if she left the room for more bandages and such while they divested Luke of his armor.

Well, Ben tried to be polite; Han just told her Luke wouldn't want to have his clothes taken off in front of her, even if she was prettier than a blazing comet.

Leia thankfully took it the right away, laughing when Han recognized he had given her a back handed compliment, only to try and unsuccessfully retract it, then after realizing he couldn't, informing her that she _was _attractive, but nowhere close to _his_ amazing level.

That only made her laugh harder as she left the room, Chewie coming in with the med supplies as she exited, asking only that she be allowed to see him once he was awake and patched up.

Ben promised she could; if Luke consented.

Leia nodded, discerning the gravity of his secrecy and shut the door behind her.

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Obi-Wan grasped in an entirely new way now, why Han had insisted he 'get all this facts first.'

Luke's suit was even more incredible than he had imagined; too cutting edge to be anything but an original creation, no doubt forged in utter shadow…and illegality.

Ben found the controls to release the helmet and pulled it away as the captain took care of the arms and the Wookie the legs and torso. He gazed upon Anakin's son for the first time.

It was clearly Anakin's boy. Luke had inherited his father's blonde hair and fair skin; he had Anakin's nose and cheekbones; somewhat his nose and mouth, though Ben didn't miss the hints of Padmé in him as well, his height and slight frame where all her.

He slowly touched his fingers to Luke's brow and scanned with the Force; Luke had some cuts and bruising—massive amounts of bruising—but Ben could sense other injuries…a lot of them.

He was right: nearly all of Luke's organs had been ruptured in some way, torn at as if by vicious talons.

_Oh, Anakin, what have you done to your boy?_

"Captain, bring Luminara and Mace here, please."

"Why? We've got this."

Ben gave him a somber look. "Luke has suffered extreme internal injuries; I'll need their help to heal him."

"How bad?"

"Vader ripped open all of his organs; it's incredible he's not dead right now."

Han was racing out of the room a second later.

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Luke felt as if he were adrift, immersed in some sort of deep water that allowed him to breathe. Far from him, at the top, were lazily winding, silvery clouds and a pale lemon light.

Something about the light was so beautiful, so tantalizing, that he pressed towards it; as he drew near, he swore he could make out distant voices.

"I see the resemblance to Anakin," one said.

"Yes; we must keep him safe, no matter what," replied another.

Ben, the second voice had been Kenobi.

Safe from what?

A picture of Vader came to mind; he shivered and pushed it away, drew closer.

The light was so many shades of gold, he was practically immersed in them now; they were so intoxicatingly gorgeous; briefly he thought of Leia, how she would love to see such lights.

They were nearly as enthralling as the princess herself.

He drew closer and the threads and streams of gold washed around him, one seemed to form an ethereal hand, and beckoned to him. He followed it.

The golden lights seemed to form large drapes; he could hear music, the classical, sophisticated genre. _Something played at an Imperial concert_, he mused, and the 'drapes' parted.

He was at a party…in the Emperor's palace. He recognized the Grand Hall with its marble-gold walls, carved pillars and buttresses, the magnificent domed ceilings with stained glass and the enormous arched windows with golden frames.

He was surrounded by dignitaries, officials, and all manner of high-class traitors to freedom and democracy.

He searched for Ghost; she was here, he had no doubt, but just as he moved through the well-dressed crowds, they all turned to a lavish staircase laid with shimmering scarlet carpet trimmed with gold and raised a loud cheer. Luke turned to see who was coming.

He hissed unwillingly: it was the Emperor.

He descended from the upper level onto the stairs with members of the Crimson Guard all around him, weapons drawn. Luke could smell the fear in the people as they applauded their 'leader' and 'ruler' who came to the landing and smiled, his poisonous eyes piercing all the guests; Luke ducked behind an ambassador as the Sith Lord's gaze swept in his direction.

He wasn't certain if this was a dream or something more; in all honesty, he'd never used the Force to such an extreme level before, it was too risky he'd decided long ago.

Apparently he'd decided right; how had he gotten here!?

He peered over the ambassador's shoulder as Palpatine strode to the landing, his stature and smile every bit the dictator and supreme master. Luke shuddered.

Evil exuded out of him like a floodgate; a massive tsunami of toxic everything.

If Death could put on flesh and walk around, he'd be the Emperor.

Luke shuddered again, recoiling.

He'd seen more evil in his life than men over twice his age; he'd fought, killed and crippled some of the most detestable, vile, repulsive people in the galaxy.

He thought he'd seen the very worst there was; no.

Now, he had.

Palpatine was far beyond them all, by a breathtaking margin.

Luke had to find Ghost; he was seized by the need to ensure she was safe.

He quietly crept among the crowds.

It was a relief that no one seemed to glimpse him; if he was truly in the Emperor's palace, if he wasn't merely in the grips of some awful dream, then Ghost ought to be here, in her undercover guise.

He kept to the perimeter, within the shadows, and surveyed the immense throng. Humans everywhere; the only aliens were the servers, who kept quiet and most of the time with their heads down.

Slaves; Luke ground his teeth; it disgusted him to no end.

He'd been a slave; no one deserved that fate. He'd end slavery himself one day, no matter what.

He noticed a tall, slender humanoid standing near one of the buffet tables speaking to a man with Admiral Markings on his grey and black uniform.

There she was; Ghost.

Luke smiled, blew out a breath, thank goodness he was all right.

Then he noticed Palpatine ascend a dais and everyone ceased talking immediately and give him their undivided attention.

"My loyal friends," Palpatine began, "I am so very pleased that you could join me this evening to celebrate what is certain to be a glorious occasion."

Everyone politely clapped.

Luke shook his head: drones, all of them.

"Tonight marks a most wondrous event for our glorious Empire; after this day, our galaxy shall know an era of peace such as had never before graced the annals of history."

More claps.

Palpatine lifted a glass of what Luke assumed was Broveian champagne; it had the right color to it. It was rather notable, being the rarest and most expensive champagne in the galaxy.

Luke curled his lip.

"I invite you now, my friends, to drink to peace; the end of the rebellion, and the beginning of a tranquil era."

"A tranquil era," everyone said, sipping from their gold and crystal flutes.

It was so appropriate; the champagne was ruby red, like blood.

Drinking the blood of the innocent on the eve of their supposed end? Not if Luke could help it.

Before he could consider the consequences, Luke gazed up at the stained glass; the ancient pictures of peace and harmony railing on him now, slashing like claws into his soul.

He called upon the Force and shattered them.

Multi-colored glass exploded over the guests, who screamed and ran for cover; Luke summoned the Force again and overturned the tables, sending plates of gold and porcelain crashing to the polished floor. Wine bottles shattered, and the large arched windows detonated, throwing clear glass into the vast chamber like sparking, fragmented rivers and waterfalls; Luke watched in satisfaction as the people's fine clothes were cut open, mangled with foodstuffs, as 'dignitaries,' slipped on fallen dainties as they fled for their lives.

But Luke wasn't satisfied, he called up the lighting circuitry to explode, setting the hall ablaze; he ripped open the piping, filling the hall and outer halls with water; he telekinetically tore the elegant stairway from its foundations and toppled it out a window and into the walkways below. He reached out in the Force and found every slave in the castle and disintegrated their chips, so they could escape and not be tracked.

_Flee, _he ordered them; _I've destroyed your slave chips, run and find people to help you._

He'd comm Link and Mouse later to track down the freed slaves and have their agents on Coruscant seek them out and take them into hiding.

He finished by calling down the entire ceiling and then tearing the floor supports to bits.

He stood there, amidst the wreckage that was once an exquisite chamber, now raining from ruptured water mains, fire burning where water didn't reach, destruction and disaster everywhere.

A bit conspicuous for an assassin, but it had felt _so good_ letting all of that fury and frustration out; he felt…cleansed for it.

"My, now what do we have here?" an insidious voice drawled. Luke's attention riveted to the large doorway opposite him.

The Emperor; he stood there, quite calm and collected, completely ignoring the catastrophe around them, both of his wrinkled white hands resting atop his cane.

And he was staring with those toxic eyes _right at_ Luke.

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**A/N: **Ah; Luke goes from the frying pan to the fire. Plz review!


	21. Chapter 21: Oath

**A/N:** Hi y'all! We're at over 12,000 readers! OMG! Enjoy, thanks for everyone who's reviewed! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.21—Oath_

Palpatine chuckled as he walked into the demolished catastrophe around them; his cane clanking loudly even over the rumbling fire and hissing of burst water mains.

"My, the rage that fills you," the vile ruler smoothly began, "do you not feel freed now, young one? Does not releasing the anger liberate you of your frustrations?"

Luke swallowed hard; he'd not been thinking. He'd been so foolish.

The fact was; the Emperor was right, he'd used the dark side to fuel the attack, and they both knew it.

But, he was an assassin, not a Jedi. He didn't recoil, didn't take a step back.

No; as much as fear of the Sith Lord was screaming in his ears, he stepped forward.

The Emperor only grinned at his daring, apparently approving.

"It must bother you," Luke softly avowed, blue eyes narrowed as they fastened on the tyrant, "that I may have as much power as you're implying, yet you've never sensed me before—even _once_."

The change in the monarch's face was nightmarish.

"Ah, but that is true," the Emperor hissed, toxic eyes practically burning through Luke, "but is of no consequence now. You've done well, _hiding_ for so long, a pity for you it is possible no longer."

And invisible, burning tendrils wrapped around Luke, dragging him to the ground. He shouted and pulled at the Force to fight back, but screamed when the tendrils burst into black flames.

Wait; this was impossible! If he was only a shade, a psychic form, the how could the Sith-?

"Quite intriguing," Palpatine mused aloud as Luke screamed and fought, "a mere boy, a child; and yet, so much power clearly dwells within you. Hmmmm…."

Luke didn't like the sound of that; it was too close a parallel to Vader, too close to being told—

"Well, your body cannot be far from here; not for you to use your power so freely in my palace." His tone took on a chilling benevolence. "Where are you boy, in the corporal worlds?"

The pain became unbearable, Luke screamed louder, but kept his mind closed, even as he could feel the Emperor's mental claws slashing mercilessly at his defenses.

"It is useless to resist, young one," the ruler viciously remarked, his tone still eerily light, "better for you to surrender now. After all, the dark side has _already_ consumed you"—

Luke gasped. No, that couldn't be true.

-"Oh," Palpatine gleefully said, "but it is so! By your own actions you've proven it, or do you not see the _destruction_ all around you? You anger has given you much power; power you _crave_, long to have for your own ends. What ends would those be boy? What drives you so?"

Luke struggled harder; fear now breeching his defenses.

No; it couldn't be, he wouldn't allow it. His father was a Jedi, his mother one of the very first rebel originators; he would never go against what they had fought for.

What his mother had died for. He yelled out in his mind for Fade.

She had to sense what was happening.

He sensed his mental walls fracturing under Palaptine's onslaught; he was so powerful! Luke thought of how easily Vader had cut down those Jedi; a couple Masters even.

How was he to oppose this kind of power?!

Neither of them saw the Ethereal materialize behind the Emperor.

But Luke felt her; he took an infinitely relieved breath just as a blinding amethyst flash blasted through the room with enough force to shake everything like a violent earthquake.

He heard the Emperor yell as he flew to one side, landing in a pile of rubble where the staircase had been.

A loud crash sounded when the dictator landed. Luke felt his power instantly abate, he was able to push himself to his hands and knees; blood filled his mouth.

As the Emperor attempted to rise, venomous yellow met icy blue.

"I won't join you," Luke snarled, "but one day, I will kill you—you have my word."

And with that, Fade wrapped around him and they were gone.

Luke heard a faint, livid yell of 'no!' from the Sith Lord as he woke up.

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"Luke!" was the first thing he heard after snapping awake. He quickly took in his surroundings.

He was in the Falcon; in one of the personal quarters, he was lying in a bed…bereft of his uniform; garbed in his white under-shirt and pants. Ben, Luminara, Mace and Han were all sitting around him.

It was Ben who had spoken; he was on Luke's immediate right. He clutched Luke's shoulders, his face contorted in fear and anxiety.

"Luke! Do you have concept of what you've done!?"

Mace, sitting across from Ben on Luke's left, reached a hand out to steady the other Jedi. "Obi-Wan; he didn't do it consciously. We all felt that. And between our power and the Ethereal, we retrieved his Force essence in time."

"Just in time," Ben emphasized. Luminara shook her head.

"It was going to eventually happen," she quietly pointed out, her face accepting. "He is the child of the Chosen One. Did you expect the Force to let him live in the shadows forever?"

Ben grimly shook his head; but his obvious worry over Luke strangely touched him. He took one of Ben's hands and patted it comfortingly.

"I'm all right," he said over a dry throat. He coughed.

Ben took the cue, sighing as if it were too late now to do anything but press forward and fill a cup with some water on the small table beside him.

He lifted Luke's head and helped him drink. "You're just like your father; always taking unnecessary risks," he murmured as if in resignation.

Luke drained the cup and lay back down. "What happened?"

"Vader managed to rupture all of your organs before you escaped," Mace replied, his tone soft and reassuring, "but we, between the three of us, managed to heal you. You might be sore for a couple of days, but you'll make a full recovery."

Luke nodded, nervousness growing in him. If they healed him, then that had to mean….

Luminara gave him a sober look. "You have a surprisingly efficient rejuvenating ability."

It was a question. Luke took a breath, let it out. "I know; I know you want explanations."

"Luke," Ben asked, his voice filled with fatherly concern, "what happened to you, after you were taken by the slavers?"

Luke swallowed the knot in his throat. "I'd rather talk about it after…."

His expression must have convinced them. They all exchanged knowing looks, but nodded quietly.

Luke hated it; he hated discussing his past, what he went through…and how cowardly it made him feel.

He'd been able to move on, had found a path to walk on, had found a way to impact the galaxy for good; but…it was so much easier to do that when he made an applied effort to forgetting.

Telling others about it…no; he never did that. It was just too painful.

But, these Jedi, even as the one called Mace asked Han to bring Luke some food; that Biggs was in the galley with some of the other Jedi preparing everyone a meal and Han patted Luke on the shoulder and promised him things were 'gonna be ok, kid' and left, they were being kind to him.

Why? Ben was for his father's sake, Luke was fully aware of that, but the others? They knew who he was: Specter, what he was: an assassin, and yet, where was the judgment? The disgust from these Knights with their Order and Code—their Code that clearly didn't condone assassinations or any of the other criminal activities he'd done, regardless of his noble motives.

They were still treating him as a human being, worthy of dignity and compassion. It was to force his throat to not close in light of it.

He wasn't proud of what he'd done, good intentions or no; and he wasn't proud of what he'd been made into either.

But they weren't judging; somehow, it made being with them strangely…comfortable.

Han came back in with a tray; Biggs close behind him. The Jedi gave him some space and talked quietly in a corner as Luke reassured Biggs and Han that he was all right.

Luke never lost sight of how fortunate he was to have such friends. Fleetingly, Tank came to mind and his face fell. He so wished Tank had come with them.

Biggs' somber expression said all: he was never lost at reading Luke's mind. "We'll get him back, Luke, I'm sure of it."

Han nodded. "We'll just wait for the opportunity, kid."

Ah; so Biggs had told him then. Not surprising. Han and Biggs were closer than Han was than Tank, but they still had always gotten along. Tank had always seemed to gravitate more to Chewie, wanting to arm wrestle him constantly and such.

Luke grinned at the memories. "Yeah; I'm sure you guys are right."

"Puh," Han said, rising, "I don't need to be told I'm right, kid. I'm always right."

"Even when you're wrong?"

"That's right," Han said and with a bravado gesture, left the room. "Now, those Jedi are getting kinda cocky, telling the princess stories in _my_ lounge."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Time to bring up the Kessel run _again_?"

Han pointed an accusing finger. "Hey my record was never beat; not even you in that dainty ship of yours ever went faster."

Luke sputtered. "Only because I never tried; and my ship is not dainty!"

"Is too."

"You're just jealous that my falcon is better than your _Falcon_."

Biggs busted up. Han gave him a scathing look and as if on cue; Noc flew in with Fade.

"My _Falcon_'s better," Han grumbled as he left. He patted the doorway consolingly. "Don't listen to him, baby; you're the best."

Now Luke buckled over; at least until he winced and gasped. His stomach still hurt. Biggs took the tray from the bedside table and placed in front of him, ordered him to eat and asked Ben to stay with him.

Biggs pointed a warning finger as he left. "Stay put."

"Yes, Biggs," was the drawled reply.

Biggs only shook his head as he walked out.

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**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed! Plz review!


	22. Chapter 22: Solo

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews all; yeah, the last chapter was a little short because I had to run some errands suddenly. I'm glad to say my back is feeling a little better; thanks for the prayers on that. I'm still seeing my doc tomorrow, so we'll see what she has to say. Anyhow, here we go! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.22—Solo _

The Jedi went out to get plates for themselves; at least Mace and Luminara did, Ben lingered behind, reseating himself beside Luke.

"Luke you should eat; your body will need it to finish healing."

They both knew that already; Luke could smell a diversionary tactic at five light years away.

It came with the job.

"What happened to my father?" his tone was flat; his gaze lingered on the tray before fastening onto Kenobi.

Ben had been his father's best friend; he'd admitted as much. Ergo, if anyone knew what had become of Anakin Skywalker, it was the Jedi sitting gravely beside him.

But when Ben met his eyes, his expression while resigned, was also slightly scrutinizing.

"Your parents are the reason, aren't they? For why you became an assassin?"

Luke somberly nodded. "I am the son of a Jedi and a rebel activist. Had anyone known, I would have been hunted."

"And you're not hunted now?" his tone was wry.

Luke hoped his smile wasn't too cynical—or threatening. "Everyone knows better."

Something haunted crossed Ben's face. Luke wondered why, until Vader came to mind.

Did Ben liken him to Vader? Luke hunting Imp leaders while Vader hunted Jedi?

"I'm not like him," Luke said without thinking.

Ben appeared confused for just a second, before resting his hand atop Luke's wrist.

"I know," he said and nodded at Luke's narrowed eyes. "There's only one person you could have been referring to."

Luke's eyes met the floor. "I saw the Emperor too, in the vision."

Ben exhaled soberly. "We saw part of it." He gently lifted Luke's face so their gazes locked again. "You made a mistake Luke; using the Force in anger…but, and it's very important you understand this: one mistake does not make you lost forever."

Luke mentally scanned the rolodex of his 'career.' "How many mistakes does it take then?" his tone was hollow.

Ben shook his head. "You're asking the wrong question." He patted Luke's hand. "But, we'll discuss this sort of thing after you're recovered."

Luke nodded. "Then you can tell me about my father now."

The haunted expression returned to Kenobi's face.

Luke pressed, leaning forward. "I know you know what became of him."

Ben surprised him by laughing softly—and without humor. "Then you know more than I do, young Luke."

Luke's shoulders dropped. "What do you mean?"

When Ben's face lifted, if wore an expression of immeasurable sadness. He sighed. "I wish I could tell you what happened to your father."

Luke swallowed hard. No; Kenobi was his greatest—and perhaps last—chance. "Meaning?" he prompted.

Kenobi ran a hand over his face. "Luke, I'm sure you've read the official records of what became of your father."

"They're falsified. I had the best techs out there check them."

Ben nodded, as though expecting that. "The records are not totally falsified. Anakin was sent by the Chancellor to Mustafar; where the Federation leaders were hiding. He was supposed to arrest them; but…they were found dead and your father…gone. No one was ever able to uncover what happened there."

Luke was quiet for several moments as he digested this news. "I see."

Ben sighed, nodded. "What have your sources been able to tell you?"

"Only the events that led up to what you just told me; and that his death was a probable cover-up."

Ben nodded. "That's likely. Anakin was a key figure in the war."

Luke shook his head. "Then why hide what became of him?! That makes no sense! He was the Jedi rep for the Chancellor before the war ended; he was sent to lead the final mission against the Separatists. But then; poof! He's gone, like he never even existed!"

Ben took both of his hands and held them in one of his, using his other hair to stroke Luke's hair. Luke inwardly reprimanded himself for shaking; but it was hard to hold his frustration in check; he'd been so close, he was so certain he was only on the cusp of finding his father.

Now he was back to Game 1, as they said. Curse it all!

"Luke," Ben quietly said, "please don't give up hope; not yet. There may be something out there that you haven't seen, haven't come across. The galaxy is immense; even for well-traveled people like you. But, we have something more important to discuss now, how we'll keep you out of Imperial clutches long enough to find your father."

Luke looked up, suddenly feeling very raw, and drained. "Meaning?"

Ben let out a centering breath. "Vader and Palpatine now know about you, in different ways. We have to make…appropriate arrangements for your safety and well-being."

"I can take care of myself."

"It won't be nearly as easy as it once was."

Luke smiled mirthlessly. "You call my life up until now, 'easy'?"

Ben twisted his lips, chagrined. "It will be far more difficult then, if you prefer to see it that way."

At that moment, Mace and Luminara returned, Han and Biggs trailing behind them, all with plates. Mace, Biggs and Han each had two. The all found places to sit in the room, Mace handed one of his plates to Ben, who took it with murmured thanks.

"I assume you've told him, Obi-Wan?" Mace inquired, dipping his bread into the gravy covering what looked like soypro cutlets.

Ben nodded. "I just did, actually?"

Luminara took a sip of her drink. "Young one, we must take steps now to protect you; Vader and the Emperor both are aware of your existence now. Granted, Vader knows of your Force abilities as 'the Specter' and Palpatine only knows that a human youth out there in the galaxy wields the Force with unheard of power—but in time, they will realize that you are one in the same person. We must act to postpone that day as much as possible."

Luke put his head down. "Palpatine saw my face."

They were all surprised by hearing Fader snicker. _The Sith Lord may have seen you, friend, but I fear my…release of power may have blurred his recollections of your face._

Luke grinned widely. "He can't remember what I look like?"

_I fear aside from vague impressions: your eye color, hair color, and that you're human, no; your exact features are no longer known to him. _

Luke hugged the Ethereal, or at least tried to, she was sitting on his lap, near his tray, but his hands went right through her.

"Fade, are you all right?"

_I shall be; so much phasing plus transporting myself to the Core World and stunning the Sith Lord and affecting his mind as I did took much of my strength. I am…weakened, but shall recover._

She was transparent now, a washed out lavender silhouette. Luke pursed his lips.

"Master Windu, how do you suggest we hide the boy?" Luminara asked, breaking the brief silence.

"We'll have to give him a new identity; something to throw the Empire off."

Everyone turned their attention to Luke and Han, who were grinning at each other and chuckling.

"You people do remember who you're talking to, right?" Luke asked humorously. "The Specter; I've changed my identity more times than you all change robes." He tapped his one temple.

"Link, Mouse; you two there?"

"Uh, aren't we always?"

"Yeah," Mouse put in, "you don't let us out much, remember?"

"You been hearing most of this?"

"We've been trying to monitor you; but you kinda make it hard sometimes."

"Yeah, how dare you make us work when we're at work," Link pouted.

They both laughed.

Luke rolled his eyes. The two snarkers' voices were faint, coming from the helmet that sat beside Luke, but everyone in the room could hear them.

Of course, only Biggs and Han knew about the two-way comm unit implanted directly into Luke's head via technorganic/nano-hybrid technology, but Luke thought the Jedi could find out about that later on.

If he decided they needed to know at all.

"Guys," Han said, leaning towards the helmet, "make up a new set of holo-docs on my buddy here." He grinned like a proud father and wrapped one arm around Luke. "I want you all to meet Luke Solo, my cousin."

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After they managed to persuade Solo that he didn't need to keep reminding them of his brilliance; the Jedi and others managed to pool their thoughts together to give Luke a convincing cover-story:

He was Luke Andrivian Solo, Han's cousin by their mothers, who were sisters. It was nothing for Link and Mouse to hack into Corellia's citizen records, find the Solo family and make the appropriate adjustments. Photos of Luke growing up, holo-shopped into pics of Han with friends, Academy pics and such were all added.

They even concocted a personality profile for him, test records, blood and physical specs, making Luke perfectly…ordinary.

According to their records, Luke had average IQ, ambition, had no shocking abilities or passions; he was content to fly, fix things, and hero-worship his older cousin. Link thought it might be good to subtly hint that Luke seemed to have some small natural creative skills, but nothing shocking—just in case, he said.

Luke grinned as he pulled out a comm complete with screen and watched the readout of the docs the wily pair were sending him—plus uploading onto the Imperial Holonet—came across the screen.

He had to grin at the pics. "Luke Solo" had dark hair, brown eyes and trademark scars on his back…from a speeder accident the records said.

"And…uh, why are we doing this?" Luke asked with a chuckle.

"Cause," Link replied dryly, "so you can still walk around with some anonymity; or people will just think you dyed your hair, wear retina enhancers, and got the scars removed. Besides which, most of the Solo family have those colorings; that way no one will really think about how little you look like them."

"Yeah, and we can't make the docs perfect man; then the Imps would know for sure that they're fake."

Luke snickered. "You have such a low opinion of the Empire, guys."

"Naw," Mouse retorted, "it's not that. We just know we're better than them."

Everyone laughed. "Okay, records are done, boss," Link proclaimed gleefully.

"Yes," Mouse agreed, "another round of our fabulous efforts that you don't deserve."

They both sniggered.

Luke sighed. "I'll see about getting you two another raise"—

Loud cheers from the other end.  
"Any I might even let you out for some fresh air…if I feel like _you_ deserve it."

Laughter on the other end: "Just bring us some gorgeous women to hang out with; we'll take that instead."

Luke heard Link whack Mouse. "He can't bring us gorgeous women man; don't ask him that."

"Why not?" Mouse asked.

"Cause he hasn't figured out what those are yet!"

Luke just shook his head while laughter filled the room.

"You two are so fired," he drawled, "oh and no raise either."

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**A/N: **I hope you guys are still enjoying! Plz review!


	23. Chapter 23: Reclusion

**A/N: **Hello all; firstly, I want to say a HUGE apology for this chapter taking so long. I've had no shortage of insane things to deal with that caused this incredible delay. Firstly, my laptop died, and I've been w/o it now over 10 days, I lost ALL of my SW chapters that I was working on plus my story board for this fic and the sequels; AHHHHHH! I'm still dying over that; and so, I'm using a loaner laptop that is SUPER old and has NO internet…plus yesterday my cell phone died; so I have NO web at all. Plus, I'm back in school and applying for a second job. So…had a few things going on. But, please pray that my laptop comes back quick and it's either fixable or I can remember the storyboards that I lost—I lost them for my _Aladdin_ fic and _Avengers_ fics too; ugh It's just not been a good week…. Anyhow, I can only ask that you all plz bear with me as I get this all hashed out one way or another. I feel really bad; but I Uber appreciate your patience and support through this. But, here we go; onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 23—Reclusion _

Before Luke let Mouse and Link go, a sudden thought struck him.

He went into detail about the slaves he liberated from the Emperor's palace, only skimming over the vision he had—and disaster he created.

They had been 'monitoring,' which meant they probably heard everything anyways; but the pair already knew of his Force gift: they had created many of the suit's 'features' which concealed his sensitivity.

"All right," Mouse put in, his tone all business now, "we have enough connections on Imperial Center to locate the slaves you set loose; we'll keep you updated."

"Thanks," Luke breathed, rubbing his brow. He hated the fact that he didn't mention them first; he ought to have. "Try to get them off world. Send them someplace where they can get a fresh start."

"You know where the Imps would never think to look for escaped slaves?" Link asked, the wiliness palpable in his voice: "Naboo."

Luke snickered, seeing the slaves he released all in happy, tranquil lives; right under the Empire's nose. "You're so right; they think Naboo has been cowed since Apailana."

"Well, of _course_ I'm"—

"It was bound to happen _eventually_," Luke cut in; it was bad enough _Han_ did that.

"Hey! Puh; I quit, no more of my massive genius for you. I'll go work for Talon Kardde."  
Luke laughed. "He can stay out of trouble even less than Han; go ahead."

Mouse laughed as Link made moping sounds; Ben grinned at Han's mock offended expression as he pointed to himself in a 'who me?' way. Mace only shook his head; Luminara smiled.

"All right," Luke said over all the noises, "go ahead, set things up with our contact on Naboo. Keep me in the loop."

"Sure thing, boss," Mouse said.

"Okay," Han commented, his tone taking over the conversation, "now we have another matter to attend to"—

Everyone looked at him.

He lightly slapped Luke on the back. "We have a princess in the lounge who wants to visit the patient."

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Han put his arm back around Luke after the light swat—he could sense the kid needed the support—so he felt more than saw the kid squirm.

"Han," he quietly chanced, fiddling with the blankets, "the fewer people who see my face"—

"Kid; you're 'Luke Solo' now, remember? We're gonna need the princess on board to help pull this off."

"He's right Luke," Ben added, with the other two Jedi nodding.

Han raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Look, I appreciate your guys' input, but I told you already"—

"'You don't need to be told you're right,'" Luke and the Jedi chimed in perfect unison.

Han huffed and got up as Luke chuckled and the Jedi innocently grinned. "I'm getting Her Worship."

Leia's footsteps could be heard as she practically ran down the hall and burst into the room.

Her jaw dropped as her caramel eyes locked onto Luke. Before she could exclaim, Han came up behind her and nudged her into the room. "Easy, Your Highness-ness, the thing here is subtly."

Leia caught herself. "Oh; yes, of course, you're"—

"Don't say 'right,'" Luke commented with a grin at Han's withering look.

Han only shook his head then as he let Leia enter. He gave the Jedi a look as Leia sat beside the bed, her face more controlled, thought the shock was still present.

"Uh, your Jedi are kinda getting outta hand in my lounge," Han too casually told the three, "could you 'masters' come and tell your kids to settle down?"

Luke gave Han a bemused frown; after all, what 'getting outta hand' could Jedi possibly do?

He didn't miss Han's omitting to glance his way as he escorted the Jedi out.

Hmmmm; now what was that all about? He clearly wanted him alone with Leia, but why?

The obvious reason couldn't be the right one; after all; he had noticed Han's 'not' interest in the princess too.

His gaze left the door and rested on said royal.

"I…I can't believe my eyes," Leia whispered, "you're _truly_ the Specter?"

Luke nodded; her gaze, however non-threatening, still unnerved him for some reason, he didn't feel in danger, and yet. He concluded it was from his 'profession': someone scrutinizing him that closely…well, no one ever did it. He rarely if ever went out in public, even in disguise; it was simply too risky. There were ways to identify people without facial recognition: gestures, mannerisms, quirks—fighting techniques. It would take just one incident after all….

When he left the safety of his ship or his team's headquarters, he was geared up—always.

It had kept him alive—and intact.

Leia broke his musings by shaking her head. "I…I don't even know how to react."

"Why?" Luke asked, the first tingling of offense rising. "What were you expecting?"

"Well," Leia gave him an apologetic look, which threw him, "someone less…young?"

Luke couldn't help but grin. He wasn't sure what he had been anticipating from her, but that wasn't it. "And…?" he prompted.

"Well, to have done all you have," she replied emphatically, gesturing as if it should be obvious, "to have your infamous reputation, to have made all the achievements…all at your age." She sputtered. "I mean, you can't be older than _me_."

Luke grinned wider and chuckled. "Yes," he said, "because you've done _nothing_ noteworthy at your age, right princess?"

She pulled his pillow out from behind him and whacked him with it, her face twisted in a mock angry glower. Luke laughed, which made her grin and giggle too.

"Smart mouth," she fake-chided; smiling bashfully.

"I do my best," he told her, smiling back. Her smiles were so bright and lively—and infectious too; just seeing her smile made him _want_ to smile back.

Oh; how formidable she must have been at Court.

He offered her a questioning look when her face became searching. "How?" she asked, shrugging helplessly, "How did someone like you ever become the Specter?"

Luke felt his throat want to close. He gulped and looked away. He flinched when images from his past flitted past his eyes like decomposed Rock Bats. He sighed. "It's…complicated."

"Would you tell me?" her voice was painfully gentle. Luke wondered fleetingly if Han asked her to coax the tale out of him on the way here; judging by her sprint to the door though, that made it unlikely. He let out a breath at that realization.

She genuinely did want to know. He met her eyes.

"Princess"—

"Leia."

His gaze dropped to her hands. "Leia," he softly corrected, "you've been…very kind in the short time we've known each other"—

She shrugged again. "You've made it very easy," she answered, her tone amiably blunt.

"I…don't want to sound like I'm being short, but there is such a thing as knowing too much."

Leia twisted her lips, leaning back. "In other words, my knowing too much about you would put me in danger? I'm wanted for high treason by the Empire; my entire family is being hunted as we speak"—she winced, no doubt worrying suddenly about them.

"By now, I'm sure they're with Garm," Luke assured her and then asked Noc to contact him to be certain.

Noc, sitting on Luke's leg nodded and his eyes unfocused as he performed the task.

Luke was rewarded with a dazzling smile of gratitude from Leia; it made him dizzy to take it in. A nest of mynocks was suddenly flying wildly around in his stomach.

Leia didn't help the situation by taking his hand. "I wouldn't be in any more danger than I am," she warmly guaranteed, "and I'd like to know more about the man who saved my life—and my family's lives."

Her voice was lethally coaxing and comforting; Luke wondered how she simply hadn't persuaded the Emperor to hand the galaxy back over the Republic. He repressed a snicker when the thought occurred to him that it probably took all of his dark side potency to resist her.

He sighed. "Believe me, prin—Leia, it's for the best that I don't"—

Wow; was that raised eye brow look impressive. He felt his determination crumble. He sighed.

"Are you sure?"

"Vader's already tortured me; and gotten _nothing_," she frankly retorted, "I'd never reveal anything—to anyone. You have my word."

Luke believed her; he exhaled, wanting to steady himself for what was coming…until he realized he wasn't apprehensive.

There was something…safe? Liberating? Cathartic? Perhaps all of them, about being around Leia; he felt set free just being near her; he mused at how appropriate she was, how perfect, for leading the Rebellion: someone who seemed to embody freedom and shelter and security.

No wonder Garm was willing to pay anything to get her back; aside from his personal feelings. He and the princess were good friends, after all.

Luke smiled wanly when her hand squeezed his, no doubt asking him to trust her.

"I do trust you," he whispered, meeting her glistening eyes, "and I trust very few people."

"I'll treasure it all the more then," she murmured significantly, her eyes full of…everything.

Luke swallowed again, forced himself to look down at Fade, who was thankfully starting to re-solidify.

He exhaled deeply. "I guess it's time to tell them our story, Fade."

_Friend, the princess if good; she will keep our secret._

"Thank you, Fade," Leia replied with another armada-destroying smile.

Luke glanced at the door. "I guess we should tell the Jedi too then; they ought to know any"—

And then the door slid to one side and in came Han with the Jedi and Biggs, all discussing the best way to cook a bantha steak.

"I'm telling you, medium-done is too done," Han iterated in a sing-song voice.

Biggs shook his head. "Han, I'm _from_ Tatooine, "do you know how many _diseases_"—

Ben cleared his throat, seeing Luke and Leia's countenances.

Han flopped lazily into a chair near Leia while Biggs sequestered a corner of Luke's bed beside his friend.

The Jedi all took their previous places, Mace standing this time near the foot of the bed.

Han placed a hand on Luke's shoulder. "You ready for this kid?" his tone was grave enough to elicit a somber look from Leia and Ben.

Luke shook his head. "No; but I'm going to do it anyways." He made a point of meeting their eyes each in turn. "When you Jedi healed me—for which I'm endlessly grateful—you no doubt noticed I'm…different from other humans."

Ben and the others nodded.

Luke sighed. "There is a reason why, from…a long time ago." Han squeezed his shoulder reassuringly; Biggs put an arm around his waist.

Luke hated this; in his suit he was protected from the outside galaxy and in control; he was so seldom around others—much less this many 'others' at once. And baring his soul; he never did that—it wasn't safe. He felt too raw, too vulnerable.

But, these Jedi, they had accepted him; already, before even knowing everything about him, these people who devoted their lives to ideals far above anything he had ever swore allegiance; they hadn't been repulsed by him or rejecting of his presence.

They had included him, welcomed them into their fold. He sighed; they deserved to know the truth, they had extended a trusting hand to him, they had earned reciprocation from him.

He swallowed back the icy terror and stifled his assassin's instincts that were screaming for him to _stop_.

"Please," he emotionlessly said, "all I ask is two things: don't tell anyone…and don't pity me."

He tried to not feel guilty when Ben paled.

He took Biggs's wrist for support and plunged in.

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Luke opened his mouth and shut off his emotions—it was the only way to endure. He began by telling them of the slavers coming to the homestead, killing his aunt and uncle—Leia had shivered sympathetically, no doubt thinking of her aunts—and then continued after he was taken from the farm:

_In the ship that the raiders had drug him to, Luke was shackled in a corner and wept quietly as he listened to them argue over where to sell him._

_He was too young to understand what 'selling' him fully meant, he only grasped the concept of selling moisture products and food; Beru and Owen had sheltered him from the knowledge of slavery._

_It didn't do him any good though; they had decided that the Hutts would only work someone as young as him to death, and while the rest didn't seem to care about that, the human woman shifted in her seat and gruffly retorted it would be a waste, and she knew someone else they could sell him to insead._

_That someone turned out to be a scientist by the name of Spinda Caveel. Dr. Caveel possessed his own predator-infested world and a facility of ridiculous seclusion where he had ample 'privacy' to conduct his experiments. No one had ever invaded his fortress successfully, and so Luke spent three years there working for Caveel, and had seen nearly all of his allies, contacts, constituents and such; he had no idea then he was Force sensitive, but did wonder why later on in life, he recalled their names, faces and quirks with flawless precision._

"The Force was with you," Ben interjected heavily, "even then." Luke caught the relief in his tone. He nodded and went on:

_However, as Luke learned an absurd amount from Caveel, who apparently hadn't been expecting much from Luke at first, but the boy had won him over with his quick learning and overall reliability, that over his three years with Caveel, he'd been well-instructed in mechanics, droid tech, as well as exposure to nano-tech and hybrid-tech. He'd also learned about a renegade IT genius who had two young prodigy-level apprentices who had deserted him to go free-lance and would later cross paths with Luke._

"Link and Mouse," Luke clarified, even though it was unnecessary. Everyone nodded.

_But, Caveel's base was infiltrated when Luke was six, by a group of assassins who had been sent by a rival to finish Caveel off, over some vendetta from years before. While Caveel had abandoned Luke to his fate and sealed himself off in some secret life-vault that the assassins couldn't compromise, the assassins seized his entire plethora of tech and destroyed his fortress._

Luke repressed a sigh; he'd heard that after that loss, Caveel had become even more unhinged, finding an even more lethal world to build an even more insanely fortified base upon.

_Luke had been brought back to the assassin's lair after they brought the tech to their 'employer,' who told them he didn't need a slave and to take 'the boy' as a bonus. Luckily for Luke, of the four assassins who had captured him, one of the women, a human named Telile, took a liking to him and asked the others if they would mind her keeping him 'as an aide.' They hadn't._

_And so, till Luke was ten, he served her; she was kinder than Caveel by far, in a way adopting him and not letting the others treat him too badly. She was married to the one of the other assassins; Vyrk by name, the other two were humans as well; involved only, not married. _

_As Luke stayed in their secret base, which was on a dark and forbidding asteroid; their compound bleak and dreary, he learned a lot about them and how they operated. Telile would bring him back mementos and trinkets from the worlds where they executed their jobs; his days were very routine; mundane and predictable…till he was 10._

_Then a man called Dromerick met with his four masters, and made them an offer._

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**A/N: **well, I hope this was worth the wait; enjoy! Plz leave me a review; believe me, with all this bs going on, I need them!


	24. Chapter 24: Endless

**A/N: **Okay, so we're pressing on here; I hope you enjoy! Plz leave a review, they're more morale-boosting than usual for me these days! But, I am happy to report that my laptop is BACK! Yay; it's a great day, right? Anyhow, thanks a billion for the reviews; I am trying to balance the action sequences with the dialogue parts; I hope you're getting an even dose of both. Anyhow, please enjoy! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch. 24—Endless _

Luke had to take a breath. He made a point of not looking at anyone; they would only give him those pitying faces that he so longed to not see.

Were the situation not so grim, he'd probably laugh; here he was: the infamous Specter; deadly, fearsome assassin of the galaxy; the name that kept Imperial governors up at night, wondering if he was hiding under their beds- shivering, plagued with that awful feeling of _vulnerability_.

It was pathetic; he was utterly relieved Boba Fett wasn't here, watching.

He'd never hear the end of it.

Han seemed to glean his thoughts, anxieties; he jostled his shoulder very gently.

"You're doing fine, kid," he whispered.

Luke pulled his fragmented resilience together. Leia hadn't let go of his hand; as crazy as it was, he was certain her touch was helping keep him together.

He'd never opened up in this way before…not to this extent anyways. Biggs had learned about it from him, Link and Mouse—as well as Ghost, over time; not all at once as the Jedi and Leia now were.

Same with Han and Chewie: little bits, over the years. It was more feasible that way.

He hated how cold and razed he felt for it; like his very soul was being scoured bloody and then soaked in Kessel salts.

But, he wasn't finished yet; and he never stopped until a job was done.

So, he took a breath and pushed on:

_Dromerick was formerly a leading Imperial scientist heading up nearly all of the Empire's most advanced hybridization technologies as well as ambitious search and discovery projects in galactic crypto-zoologies; he held an obsession about possessing the genetic codes of every being, every creature and every anything, on every planet, moon, comet and asteroid in the entire galaxy. But, his experiments had become too costly for the Empire and after decades of little to no real 'results' heaped upon his repeated demands for billions upon billions of credits, Vader had had enough._

_He had thrown Dromerick out of the Imperial echelons, and no university, academy or so on would dare to touch him; he had become a pariah, courtesy of the dark lord._

_So, he had vanished into the Underworld. There Dromerick had discovered a surprisingly lucrative pool of under-lords only too interested in his work, with ample credits and resources to compete for his 'employment'—Prince Xizor sitting at the head of the list. _

_The dark prince of the Falleen had aspirations far above his status quo as the Leader of Black Sun and the owner of XTS, or Xizor Transportation Systems—and also bore Vader a personal grudge for unknown reasons to the outside galaxy. That sweetened the deal for Dromerick and duracreet-ed his decision to accept Xizor's offer._

_He wanted the galaxy and a devastating revenger; however, there was that little matter of two Sith Lords standing in his way; the target of his retribution being one of them, which was just fine with Xizor and Dromerick._

_And while Xizor had begun by exploring more clandestine means for executing his two dreams, thought then occurred to him if he couldn't rival the Siths' power with his own agents wielding the Force to match…perhaps there were other avenues to equalizing the playing field._

_Like an army of super-hybrids; totally unstoppable, totally obedient to him._

_And so, Dromerick had taken Xizor's money happily and set to work. But, after many human and alien subjects had died during the 'hybridization process,' a rival sent an assassin corps to attack their base one night while Dromerick was hiring Luke's masters to kill some spies who had hacked into his base and stolen key portions of his specs and other vital information._

_He wanted his work recovered and invaders dead._

_The rival assassins had broken into Luke's 'home' as well during the meeting; Luke had been cleaning up the supper plates. Telile had pushed him under the table before taking a blow to the shoulder; the others were busy and she was exposed._

_One of the rival assailants had thrown a vibro-shiv at her throat; without thinking Luke had reached out leaping from beneath the table—_

_The vibro-shiv had veered just centimeters from her trachea to his open hand; he threw it back at its owner flawlessly, striking the man through the spine, killing him instantly._

_Dromerick had watched it all from his hiding place amongst some nearby crates._

_After the other assassins had dealt with their attackers, Dromerick came forward and offered them a substantial sum to buy Luke, more than enough to retire on and live happily ever after._

_But Telile was nobody's fool; she knew instantly what was motivating Dromerick: Luke's just then discovered Force power; she'd come across hunted Jedi in her travels._

_She had refused; but Vyrk had argued—backed by the other two—that they could use the money and he could 'buy her 10 brats' with the sum Dromerick was offering._

_Telile had held fast though; threatening to kill Dromerick if he didn't leave. But, Vyrk had pulled her aside and tried to persuade her himself._

_Initially, she didn't budge; but when Dromerick said that they could still keep ownership of Luke and just let him 'run his tests' and if nothing happened he'd allow them to keep the credits and let them have Luke back besides, Telile had seemed to come around._

_So…it had begun then—_

Leia gawked. "They…experimented on you?" she sounded mortified; but not surprised.

No; of course she didn't—she'd probably seen all the nightmare facilities, being in the Senate and later on the Rebel Alliance.

Luke didn't look up to see her greenish face or the hand over her mouth; it wouldn't help, wouldn't change anything. Biggs hugged Luke, and Luke forced his posture to steel.

He would shiver again; it was done and over—and nothing could be undone now. That was never a possibility anyways.

"It…was a long time ago," he said hollowly to no one in particular; tried to make his tone dismissive.

Didn't really succeed; he sighed.

_Friend, _Fade said, letting only Luke hear, _I know this is difficult and painful for you; but we are all here with you. And…think of the ending…._

Luke had to smile at that; he patted her head, her body now corporeal enough for him to do so.

In his peripherals, he saw Ben's shoulders un-tense some, probably guessing Fade's actions; when the Jedi 'snuck' her a grateful look, Luke was vindicated.

Han jostled his shoulder ever so slightly. "Keep going kid; you're doing fine."

Luke somberly nodded; he did feel a bit calmer, whatever the reason. He'd take it. Another centering breath and then:

_Dromerick set up a new facility not too far from their asteroid. As Luke was led in for the very first time, he was overwhelmed at how well-lit; clean and advanced it appeared: the durasteel walls, the perfect symmetry of the chambers, the dead, filtered smell of the air. It was so different from the dank, crumbling asteroid he'd called home for so long._

_But then, the experiments began. _

Luke deliberately kept this part vague; they didn't need to know how it was done; only that it was.

_Luke was drugged enough to be cooperative, given a strange, but very specific diet to 'prime' his body, but it was clear Dromerick was banking on his Force sensitivity to 'see him through.' _

_Luke was given regular treatments of synthetic agents meant to boost his immune system while breaking down certain aspects of his DNA structure, operations were performed to replace and/or augment his vital organs, more was carried out as well, but Luke didn't go too in-depth into it—it wasn't necessary._

_He hated what he did remember; what the endless barrage of drugs didn't cloud up or simply erase: the deranged, hungry glint in Dromerick's eyes as he performed the surgeries, the bright lights glaring into Luke's eyes; the taste of the sedatives and the bland, chalky taste of the food and meds he was given. He'd missed Telile so much in those times, she was allowed to visit him on occasion; she'd bring him gifts and try to encourage him. He had often wondered what had changed her mind. _

_He was too drugged to feel fear; though dread came each time when he was strapped down on the surgical bed, deducing another operation was coming. Eventually, he'd lost all sense of time._

_He judged time in the meals; the bland food they had to eventually force down his throat. He judged it in the surgeries, the IV's of strange chemicals they pumped into his body. He judged it in how many times a day they came into his room to check "the subject."_

_For a while, he'd forgotten his name. Telile had stopped visiting after a while; dread surged in his mind that she was perhaps in danger; he began to know fear then, just not for himself._

_A great deal of time passed where aside from ill and weak, Luke didn't even understand what these people were hoping to achieve, because he never felt anything else—other than the pain._

_But, he Dromerick's glee, his exuberance with each passing…however much time…told him that the scientist was terribly pleased about something; he'd often hear the doctor whisper: "He hasn't died…all the others were dead long before this point. It must be working."_

_What was working? What was happening to him?_

_But at long last, when Luke was beginning to believe he'd been held prisoner there for what was probably years, he suddenly realized that he was beginning to feel…different. _

_The changes in his body were subtle when they began. Sound was first; he simply woke one morning and could hear speaking in other rooms, heard when Dromerick arranged his next 'session,' even if he was several rooms away. In the days that followed, his hearing grew more and more acute._

_Taste was next; his tongue became aware of each chemical mixed into the 'serums' he was forced to ingest or they injected into him and their residue built on his tongue. Smell quickly followed; he began to ID the other physicians and such based on the scent of their skin, he could smell the fear on others, nervousness, anxiety. He wondered if something was perhaps wrong…if he was going to die like all the previous 'subjects' after all._

_It took a long time to realize their dread was forming because everything was going _so well.

_Too well for their ease, in fact. _

_But Dromerick's enthusiasm mounted more and more each day; he began to let Luke walk around the facility in certain enclosed structures with sensors to measure his various 'progress centers' and gauge if any modifications were necessary. _

_He woke screaming one day when his sight morphed; it took several weeks of working with Dromerick and a team of optical-specialists to understand he had control over the types of 'modes' Dromerick and re-structured his eyes to be capable of. _

"Wait," Mace cut in, his brow pinched, "but your mask has an array of different visual aids"—

Luke somberly nodded.

"But, why use them if you already have altered eyes?"

"Because I don't want that to be common knowledge," Luke clarified stonily, "same with all the other…toys, my suit has. More in my suit, the less my enemies assume is _me_."

Mace nodded his mouth in a tight line; Luke could tell it unnerved him though.

Luke went on:

_It wasn't long after his primary senses were discovered to have successfully hybridized, that Dromerick began far more intense operations, surgeries that had Luke incapacitated for far longer periods of time and had centralized on his limbs and torso; soon after his spine was opened up and altered._

_The final operation had taken several days to complete; it was the only procedure Luke was put under for:_

_Brain surgery. _

Leia shook her head; pale and horrified.

"But…why? For what?" she whispered, overwhelmed and sickened.

Luke let out a short, grave sigh. "The Death Star was designed to be a super-weapon, princess," he grimly said, "but…not all super weapons are made of durasteel; Dromerick's were made of flesh and bone." He met her eyes.

Something unknotted inside of him when he realized her gaze was sober, but not revolted or rejecting.

A glance across the chamber revealed that the Jedi wore countenances similar.

It hit him like a comet that he wasn't being judged, wasn't being thought of as…less.

Han must have felt his shoulders loosen because the cocky pilot squeezed his one shoulder encouragingly.

Luke abruptly found it easier to breathe. He took a deep breath, savoring it and went on:

_They had kept him unconscious long after the surgery was over; a medically induced coma to allow appropriate healing time. When Luke came to, he could somehow sense that the greatest length of time had passed of all his…procedures._

_When he awoke, there were only two medics in the room with him; one left to notify Dromerick that he'd awakened—there was some doubt of that then, he intuited._

_They permitted him a brief amount of time to adjust as he crawled out of bed, his eyes burning from lack of use, his smell and hearing bombarding him unmercifully now._

_He fell to his knees, screaming, when it quickly became unbearable._

_In the time that followed, he worked with various types of doctors, scientists and researchers who trained him to control his new, super-enhanced senses. But Dromerick had become consumed by an obsessed need to 'know' the extent of his success. And so, endless tests began._

_Luke was forced to endure an endless barrage of simulations, exercises; training chambers filled with impossible terrains that would have made Carida seem like a holiday. And Luke was expected not only to perform to expectation…but survive too._

_But, while Luke spent day after day in these simulations, he felt his body alter more._

_His strength and endurance were hastily growing, making the dizzying drops, sheer synth cliffs, and fights with whole packs of deadly creatures seem like child's play._

_It terrified him._

_What had they done to him!?_

_And then the fateful day arrived; he was presented to a very tall, green alien garbed in very rich clothes and gazed down at him with blazing eyes._

_Prince Xizor._

_Dromerick proudly showed off his 'greatest achievement yet' to the Falleen, who seemed less than thrilled to see his credits had been spent on hybridizing a boy._

"_You told me that you'd create for me an army of hybrids capable of overthrowing the Sith," Xizor ground out, looming over Dromerick looking ready to tear into the frightened scientist._

"_My…my prince," Dromerick a mainly collected himself, "I am building you an army of _assassins_, not soldiers; standard armies would fall before Vader, before the Emperor. No, this boy and those after him will seem on the outside perfectly normal, nothing menacing or dangerous at all and so be able to move in the daylight as part of the citizenry. They'll weild anonymity, plus the element of surprise. Include the arsenal of advantages I will give them, they'll be invisible, intangible. They will come out, unseen, do what they must and vanish, like ghosts, or specters. It will only make them more _terrifying_. Vader's fearsomeness is in his presence; but people fear less when he is far away." A terrible glint lit in Dromerick's eyes. "But, my prince, no one in the galaxy will ever feel safe again; for these…specters, they will never be seen, no one will ever know who they are or where they have gone. You will have an army that the galaxy will live in ceaseless terror of; for, what do beings fear more than the unknown?"_

_Xizor had been satisfied…mostly. "You present a lofty promise indeed," he mused, stroking his chin while regarding Luke, who remained stone-still, "but…bear in mind, Dromerick," and his dark eyes impaled the scientist, "I have found another inventor. He is also promising me assassins…human replica droids. You now have competition."_

_Dromerick sputtered in disbelief._

"_Yes," Xizor silkily replied, "should you fail me, I am not without options; this man has discovered a means to create a droid perfectly, flawlessly capable of doubling as a human; to perform all human like behaviors, and be a completely efficient killer. I suggest you fulfill your promises."_

_The Falleen prince departed, fastening a death glare onto Dromerick as he did, which left Luke chilled to the core._

_A killer? They were going to turn him into an assassin!?_

_No; Luke resolved even as Dromerick brushed him over to two aides with order to: "begin his _real_ training at once" that he would never serve that horrible man._

_And…he'd never become an assassin._

Luke chuckled without humor. "And, that worked out so well." His voice was empty enough to alarm even him.

"What happened after that?" Mace quietly asked. "After they trained you?"

Luke put his head down.

**A/N: **That's all for now kids. I know it's on the shorter side, but I really wanted to upload something today. For those of you asking when 'action' is coming back on the scene; soon! Just bear with the dialogue a little longer. There's a few things left, then we'll see action again Please R&R and enjoy!


	25. Chapter 25: The Arena

**A/N:** Thanks all for the AWESOME reviews! Sorry about grammar/structure flaws in the stories; I do proof-read but still might miss one or two. I will be cleaning those up at a later date Anyhow; onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.25: The Arena_

"They trained me," Luke emotionlessly told them, staring at the far wall, "far and beyond what any other assassin walking this galaxy has been through; but each day, I swore I'd escape."

"But, you saw being trained as the only way of ever seeing it through?" Mace inquired.

"Yes; because it was. None of my family was alive…that I knew of; no one missed me, everyone on Tatooine thought I was dead or simply…gone." Luke shook his head. "And my…'owners' had sold me; what other options were open?"

Everyone was silent. Ben exhaled guiltily.

"I wish I had known Luke," he confessed heavily, "I would have come for you."

Another head shake. "It wasn't to be though, I guess."

"No, it seems not," was the subdued concession.

"It's all so much to take in," Luminara admitted after a moment's silence, "even with the darkness the Sith have infested the galaxy with…what they did to you, and to the others…."

The silence became weightier when everyone realized that since Luke had been augmented by the 'parts' of _others_, no one really knew how Dromerick had acquired those organs, tissues, fluids and so forth.

Or how many people had been butchered for said parts…no one pointed out they probably had to have been children, like Luke, to 'fit' him correctly.

It was macabre enough that they all knew it.

Biggs put a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Now, tell them the rest, how you escaped—it'll help."

His tone was encouraging, uplifting. Luke forced a small smile.

"It's not the 'happy ending' you're all hoping for," he dourly professed.

Leia gave a coaxing nod. "Please, tell us anyways?"

Luke caught Han smirk when he bashfully glanced down at the blankets. He discreetly elbowed the other, who only grinned wide.

He opened his mouth and shut off his emotions; it was easier to finish this way:

_The 'real' training grew more intense by the 'session.' Luke was subjected to all sorts of insane scenarios: death-trap catacomb-mazes, starship crashes on abandoned planets, battles with cyborg-warriors, hand-to-hand fights with rancors and other beasts (and he was expected to kill not only maim them); survival isolation: going for days and weeks (Luke assumed) without water, food and shelter and finally: training to resist torture._

"_In the event your captured by a rival to your master, you'll be tortured," Dromerick indifferently supplied, "so, we're going to be certain you'll not become a liability."_

_But, Dromerick had given Luke an incentive after several weeks of 'training' to lessen the number and severity of the sessions: begin training to kill live people, not merely destroy cyborgs._

_Luke had refused for a long time, but apparently, refusal meant his 'torture' training would be increased in both arenas: frequency and severity. It was a long while before Dromerick added one more incentive._

"_They'll be criminals, other assassins; they'll be out to kill you just as you them. So, if you want to survive; I suggest you win."_

Luke kept to himself that he pondered for days if he did want to go on living, before deciding that he did. He hadn't been certain why he chose then to go on; his life had been so horrible, so gruesome and nightmarish…but when he looked at the wreckage of his mother's skiff, he'd known then:

He'd longed to find his family; to discover who they were so he could discover who he was. Something, out there in the stars had been calling out to him.

He was certain Ben would tell him now: _"It had been the Force, Luke."_

Something glimmered deep inside him suddenly, as if to say he'd've been right.

He went on:

_Dromerick hadn't even asked Luke what his decision had been; he simply had the boy thrown into the forest-landscaped arena and told him: "you'd better live, boy."_

_Luke had._

_And he had then next time, and the next, and the next and so on._

_His opponents hadn't though. To this day, he could still recall the wet snap of his first opponent's spine as he broke the man's neck; a man easily in his late 20's and twice Luke's size._

_Dromerick had smiled smugly when Luke emerged, like a proud father. Luke looked away from him._

_He silently swore after his first 'kill,' he'd not rest until Dromerick was dead._

"And did you kill him?" Luminara asked, not unkindly.

Luke nodded. "He'd made his mistake; I took advantage of it." He swallowed hard at the memory. "I destroyed the installation…no one survived but me." He put his head down. "I…I don't expect any of you"—

"No one is here to judge you Luke," Leia firmly said, leaning forward to grasp his upper arm. "They bought you like…like…" she fumbled for a word that wasn't 'slave' but pushed forward when her vocabulary failed her, "and did horrible, unspeakable things to you. And from what you just said, you were only meant to be the first. He was going to make an army Luke; an army." She exhaled sharply. "Just think of all the children you saved from what you were put through by destroying that evil place."

Luke dared to glance up. No harsh, condemning expressions were aimed his way. He uncoiled a bit.

"We might be coming up on Yavin soon," Han suddenly said, "Why don't we let Luke rest a while and I'll take turns beating you all at Sabbacc." He got up and stretched. "Biggs, you wanna lose first?"

Biggs gave him a flat stare. "You always win cause of your tricked out program board; I lose to the board, not you."

Mace gave Obi-Wan a wan look as he herded the two arguing men out the door; Luminara trailed behind with Leia, who gave Luke a small smile of gratitude before the door shut behind her.

Luke solemnly turned to Obi-Wan. "You're staying here?"

Ben nodded. "I think it's best."

"Because?"

Ben exhaled and gave him a level stare. "When your father was burdened with some terrible thing, he'd haunch his shoulders and try to 'subtly' get me to leave him alone."

Luke had looked away. Brooding eyes regarded him anew. "And how successful was he?"

"More successful than you're going to be."

His tone was amiably blunt; that perked Luke's curiosity.

And he had no doubt Ben was baiting him with the topic of his father to get him talking—to make him open up.

Luke wanted to shudder but didn't. He'd done more than enough 'opening up' to last him the remainder of his life. Baring his soul, feeling so raw and exposed hardly suited him.

No; he'd sooner fly his ship into the Maw—again. It felt safer than this.

But…he couldn't deny the topic of his father did intrigue him. And some careful probing wouldn't hurt—so long as he was cautious. Ergo, he was game.

Sabbacc sounded uninteresting anyways; this game would be more worthwhile.

"He did?"

Ben smiled. "Yes, and when he realized I wasn't going to simply walk away as he'd hoped he would try to change the subject."

Ah; so the Jedi was more discerning than he'd first thought. Pity; or…was it?

Luke shifted his body so he faced Obi-Wan. "You were-are General Kenobi."

Ben was silent waiting.

"How much action did you see in the Clone Wars?"

"How much action…as in 'how much blood, death and madness' I assume?"

His tone was too even. Found out again; my but he was sharp.

Luke briefly wondered just how many horrors the man had been forced to behold to make him so…steady.

He sighed. "Yes, all of the above."

"Far too much; your father did too."

"I believe a cantina would call that tidbit: on the house."

Ben laughed. "I suppose it would." He put a hand on Luke's shoulder. "But Luke, you don't need to wheedle information about Anakin out of me; I'm not in your 'professional sector,' after all, am I? I was your father's best friend."

Luke didn't realize his muscles had tensed up again until they unwound. "No…I suppose not." He sighed; he wasn't used to all of this 'playing fair.' It was always kill or be killed; outsmart or being outsmarted, be one step ahead or six feet in the ground.

This was all…so new. It belatedly occurred to Luke that it was in a way, refreshing though.

Ben was right; there was no need for subterfuge with him—or any of the Jedi—no need for trickery or manipulation. But, didn't that infer the other way around was true as well?

"You want to know, don't you?" Luke watched Ben's mouth tighten in a thin line. "How exactly I escaped?"

Ben exhaled slowly. "Luke," he gently replied, "I…all of us…could sense some very deep, very old pain…like an infection inside of you. An infection…a wound must be lanced in order to bleed out the disease and to heal properly."

"And you think talking about it will…'lance the wound'?"

"I believe it will."

"Did it ever help my father?"

Ben's expression was mournful. "For some reason, Luke," he admitted, his tone weary from many years of grief, "your father was more secretive with me than I thought was necessary; I would have listened to anything he had to say, helped him in any way I could. We Jedi, we never were allowed families in the sense that others have; we were each other's brothers and sisters. Your father was my brother; I…I wish he had been more open with me."

"You don't think being so secretive helped him."

"No…I think in the end, those secrets," Ben sighed heavily, painfully, and looked away. He pressed a hand to his face, rubbed his eyes and Luke reached out, wondering if the aged Jedi was going to weep.

The only reason Luke didn't label this the greatest manipulative ploy he'd seen in years was the Force whispered to him he was seeing no guile in Ben; he had loved Anakin this much, he'd wanted to help Anakin that badly.

And his father hadn't let him—why? It made no sense. If they were so close, then why push him away?

Whatever the reason, it was clear now that Ben was making the same offer to Luke, that of listening, of helping, of friendship in so many words.

For his father's sake no doubt; but regardless, Luke wondered just how safe it would be for Ben should he take his offer.

Well; he was already a renegade Jedi-General considered a wanted criminal by the Empire; how much worse do you get than that?

Not much, Luke knew.

Something inside of him, passed his endless internal walls and barricades did want a friend he didn't have to live in constant fear of endangering. Ghost was protected by her special abilities and secrecy; Link and Mouse by the same. Han had Chewie. Biggs Luke worried about to no end; Tank likewise. And his other associates; they had each other and their incognito as well.

But still…even if Ben couldn't lead him to his father, he still had known him better than anyone presently living; how could he turn that away?

"I didn't know the Jedi Code condoned friendship overtures to professional assassins," he said by way of concession.

Obi-Wan grinned. "Well, it's not in the creed, so to speak, but…it doesn't specifically address it either."

Luke mirrored his grin. "So…you mean that leaves room for interpretation?"

"Well, let's just say it does."

Luke couldn't repress the snicker.

Ben gave him a sympathetic look. "The facility, there was more, wasn't there?"

Something sharp jabbed Luke's stomach and he looked away. Ben's one hand laid over his.

"Luke, you already told us what they did to you, more or less"—

Blast; they had picked up on his omissions then. Well, no matter, if he didn't want to reveal everything that was his choice; not theirs.

"General," he sharply cut in.

"Please," the Jedi softly insisted, "I know you're slow to trust, but…," he let out a labored breath, "Luke…I couldn't save your father…I wanted to, more than I could ever say. I would like to do something to make up for it…to both of you."

Luke's shoulders slumped. All right; how was he supposed to argue against that!?

He sighed; he had never tasted defeat before.  
The bizarre part was, he didn't find it all that unpleasant. It was almost like some part of him was looking forward to unloading the weight of what Ben wanted to know.

And all of the grisly details; Luke swallowed. Ben would regret this, he had no uncertainty about it.

"Ben, you weren't exaggerating were you; that bit about being used to the blood and gore?"

Ben dolefully shook his head.

"I'd say 'good,' but it's not."

"No, it isn't," was the sullen reply.

Luke let out a focusing breath; his chest hurt. His forehead was aching dully now too.

He wanted to laugh; he now had medical evidence that openness and honesty were proof-positive bad for one's health, and he couldn't even take actual humor from it.

Pathetic; what would have Telile said?

His throat closed. He didn't enjoy thinking about her either.

"Luke," Ben murmured coaxingly.

Luke hesitated, but Noc, who was sitting on the headboard near his shoulder, reached over and butted his neck with his beak. Ben smiled at the bird and Luke patted his head.

All right; he was over-ruled, he was man enough to admit it.

He gave Ben a dire look. "Remember though, you asked me," he said. Ben only nodded.

Luke began:

_As the days stretched into weeks, and Luke was slowly able to tell time again, it became increasingly clear he was now in a race, pitted against Dromerick._

_A race for freedom…a race for his sanity and what was left of his soul._

_As each day came, he was led in binds to the 'arena' a large amphitheater like structure that was able to become any number of training simulations. He and his now multiple adversaries would fight to the death in scorching deserts, frozen tundra's, dense jungles filled with poisonous creatures, tar pits and bogs, just to name a few._

_And of course he never knew ahead of time which terrain would meet him, or how many foes awaited him in the Arena; he only knew he had to win._

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**A/N: **Okay, so that's it for now kiddos; plz enjoy and leave a review!


	26. Chapter 26: Sonic Boom

**A/N:** Hey all, first off, thanks SOOOO much for the love the last two chapters received. I won't deny that they were amongst the hardest chapters to write so far, just because of the dark material addressed and how much and in what way I wanted said material revealed at this point. So, I appreciate more than ever the reviews, just because they give me a clear picture of how the chapters are being received. So; many thanks.

Also, my DEEPEST apologies for this taking so long; I don't wanna spend forever describing what happened, but I got a second job, my vehicle died, school stuff has been getting crazy and well…life has just be sabotaging me every step of the way! So, I'm infinitely grateful for all of you being so wonderfully patient as I get it back together and move forward

I have gotten a couple questions: 1) When is Vader gonna find out Luke/Specter is his son? A: Sorry, it's not gonna be in this fic. I'm going to redo Empire and Jedi as well, so you're gonna have to stay tuned for those 'episodes.' They will be AU as well (duh, right?) but will have the same 'framework' of following the original movies like this fic is; deviating, but not, if that makes sense :P Anyways, question two from Jenise: gal, you gotta redo that question: "Can't Based just capture Luke?" I'm just not following, sorry If you can redo that question, I'd be happy to answer it! Anyhow, without further ado, onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.26—Sonic Boom _

Obi-Wan rarely dreamed, but when he did, nightmares were usually what his dreams twisted and contorted into—

Mostly nightmares pierced by Anakin's tormented screams.

His exile in the desert had often felt like an eternity with the combined agonies of not knowing how Luke fared (aside from Qui-Gon's maddeningly vague assurances of "he is well") and the fact that he had barely ever found rest when the twin suns set.

On the rare occasion when he'd felt at peace enough for slumber to claim him, he was propelled back to that scorched hillside on Mustafar, hellfire blazing all around him as he watched Anakin's body be ravaged by lava and flame.

"_I HATE YOU!"_

He forced himself not to flinch now as Luke related the dark secrets of how in the end, the merciless 'training sessions' were literally eroding his sanity and the 'programming' he had been forced to endure had been corrupting him slowly, unwillingly into the soulless murderer Dromerick had promised as a 'beginning' for Prince Xizor's 'assassin army.'

Ben rested one hand on Luke's slender wrist, an anchor for his friend's son to cling to.

Luke hadn't met Ben's eyes since plunging back into his dark narrative, but Ben caught the tiniest hints in the boy's body language that he was grateful for the subtle support.

Ben wanted to throw off Jedi stoic-ness for just a few moments; long enough to gather up Anakin's child in his arms and assure him everything, somehow, would be all right. Luke's face was desolated by the horrible memories, his expression gouged and razed; Ben could practically feel his young soul bleeding in the Force.

This, this surely was the pain Anakin suffered as the lava ripped his flesh from his body and blacked both his skin and spirit into what he was today. Ben squeezed Luke's hand reassuringly as the boy confessed after swallowing hard how he'd known his sanity was being eaten away and surely that's what Dromerick had intended all along: rob him of all identity so he'd be a 'fit leader' for the prince's assassin forces.

"But I didn't let him win," Luke ground out in his next breath, his gaze vengeful and ferocious.

Ben didn't let himself be unnerved on how Luke had fixed his attention on the far wall and hadn't looked at him even once since beginning the true ending to this nightmarish tale.

"No, he didn't win, Luke," Ben softly agreed. "You are still you, in spite of everything."

Luke chuckled without humor, his tone hollow except for a hint of despair that made Ben wince.

"And, what am I Jedi?" He locked gazes with Obi-Wan and Ben didn't break their gaze even when he saw a feral shadow in Luke's otherwise brilliant cobalt eyes; a hint of what Dromerick had intended still lurked in the child then.

Ben resolved he'd banish it from Anakin's son. The darkness had consumed Anakin; it wouldn't get Luke as well.

He wouldn't allow it.

He moved close enough to Luke that he could partially wrap and arm around the boy's shoulders. "Luke," he firmly began, trying to make the boy look at him again but he kept his face turned away, "I know exactly who and what you are"—

Luke flinched. "Oh?" his voice was tentative.

"Yes, you are Luke Anakin Skywalker, the son of a Jedi and a Queen. You have every reason to hold up your head, especially since you didn't _ask_ for what was done to you; you weren't a willing participant"—

"But I was"—

"Only for a chance to escape—towards the end no less; that doesn't count."

"Doesn't a Jedi believe that _everything_ counts?" Ben didn't miss the patronizing thread lurking beneath that.

Ben gently cupped Luke's chin and turned his face; Luke wasn't weeping, but his intensely blue eyes were wet.

"Yes, Luke," Ben meaningfully said, "a Jedi believes all things count: including regret and remorse. There is such a thing as beginning again."

Luke swallowed hard and turned his eyes up to the ceiling. "Beginning again," he murmured to himself and shook his head, "not for me; no."

Ben leaned forward, resting both of his hands on Luke's arm. "Why not?" he coaxed.

Luke's face was grimly lined. "People can begin again, General; but I'm not 'people.' I'm a creation, an escaped science experiment."

Ben would not relent. "You are your father's son."

Another humorless chuckle. "Oh? Was my father's body once mutilated and turned into a monster like me?"

The remark was flippant, sarcastic, but Obi-Wan felt his body recoil from Luke as of its own volition. Inwardly the ground seemed to give way beneath him; he was falling through the endless expanse of space, yet still beside Luke all the while. Ben's face remained neutral as he struggled to breathe. It was truly a marvel of the Force that his only outward reaction was withdrawing a little from the boy. By some incomprehensible ability his composure didn't fracture more—shatter in fact, as it ought to have.

He silently thanked the Force for that.

"Anakin was no monster Luke," he gravely retorted, collecting himself, "and…_neither are you_."

Luke peered down as his own hands, which he turned to face him palms up; another head shake, tousling pale gold hair to and fro. "Perhaps not; but that only tells me what I'm _not_, but not what I _am_."

He shivered, perhaps not wanting to know the answer. Ben closed both of the boy's hands in his; they were chilled, even though the ship was comfortably warm.

"Luke, the Force enabled you to escape from them for a reason; you said yourself that you had no real hope of getting away before it became too late, yet the man Dromerick 'made a mistake'?"

Luke silently nodded, gaze haunted and far away.

"How? What was his error?" Ben prompted.

"He became…insecure," Luke mumbled numbly, his body slightly fidgeting. "Xizor's bringing in 'competition' from that other scientist really threw him. He…decided to court other patrons in the event Xizor chose the scientist over him." In spite of the dismal atmosphere, Luke's mouth twisted in a small smirk. "He constantly tore down the other scientist, and said Xizor would never go with him over his work…and I think deep down he believed it. I guess Han would call it 'keeping his bets covered.'"

Ben nodded.

Luke filled in the rest:

_The day the 'patrons' arrived, Dromerick was more the fanatical dictator than usual. His hyper-zealous 'overseeing' of the preparations had put the staff far past "on-edge": everyone was too nervous and therefore, unfocused._

_Luke could smell, from his tiny cell, the tension thick-laden in the air. And then he felt a surge of it: the Force._

"_It is time," it seemed to whisper in his ear. _

_And he knew for what: escape. A second later his cell swooshed open. Six guards, all wearing body armor, full masked helmets—gear to protect them from him—were gathered at the opening. Two came in; one to level a blaster at his head—a special model designed to stun him if he 'misbehaved,' the other to swipe a card which released him from his absurdly thick bonds that kept him restricted to the synth-boron wall._

"_Dromerick has scheduled a 'demonstration' for his guests," one of the men grumbled to him in a threatening voice. "He says if you do extra well, he'll reward you—and punish you without mercy if you don't. C'mon." _

_Luke was harshly jerked by his collar from the dark cell and into the blinding white hallway just beyond; he always had to repeatedly blink but his eyes quickly readjusted. _

_He was of course, brought to the Amphitheater, just as he had hoped._

_He'd been 'training' there for at least 8 months; he'd come to know the vast chamber as thoroughly as his holding cell. His keen senses, now far beyond those of any human or alien, had served him supremely. His sight had pierced the full of the electro-magnetic spectrum. But unfortunately, his sight could also pierce the electro-chemical spectrum as well enabling him to only see energy in motion emanating from the machines, tech, and massive supercomputers, but also the stored energy fuselages, and through the heat spectrum, could see where nearly every guard was stationed—which was ideal as he had been memorizing their daily changes of duty._

_His smell had provided the relative locations of the weapons stores, food stores…and heavy demolition stores. Dromerick had made of point of amassing a formidable stockpile of blasters from across the galaxy, as well as vibro-everything's and super-weapons galore, for both training and future 'operations.'_

_He wanted Luke thoroughly comfortable and exposed to any weapon in existence. Nothing would be capable of surprising him then—a formidable advantage indeed._

_Sound logic; and it suited Luke's own plans just fine._

_In short, through sight, sound, smell, and even the tiny particles in the air he could taste, he'd gathered enough Intel about this fortress to know where the system weaknesses were, had memorized the habitual movements and patterns of the staff…and now they were off-kilter, which would only drive an almost fully human staff to do one thing:_

_Fall back to a _fanatical degree_ on habit, routine, in order to ensure optimal performance._

_Luke repressed the grin as he stood in the high-ceilinged chamber…which was now adorned as a forest. _

_Better and better; wood was combustible, and would provide the perfect coverage for his first real 'operation':_

_Operation Escape._

_He listened as Dromerick came over the comm, officially thanked his guests for coming, promised them what they were about to see would assuredly impress them and then briefly introduced his 'finest creation' before commanding the simulation to start._

_Luke didn't bother to move, he could smell the soldiers and other muti-genically altered animals closing in on him as they were released from their anti-chambers. He silently waited; measuring the paces to the nearest rocks, trees and fallen debris as well as calculating the sprinting distance to the lake he could smell a short ways off to his right._

_They were on him soon enough. Luke pretended to be more challenged than he was, breathing heavier sooner and making his actions more sluggish from fatigue as he maimed and killed than he truly was. In his peripherals, he could see Dromerick grinning proudly as he boasted to the gawking entourage who were clearly overwhelmed by what they beheld. He held back the snort of disgust as he broke a helmeted-man's neck and dodged the lunge of a howling furred creature programmed to only attack him._

_It was time. He could sense, through the Force that something powerful was truly with him today; it seemed to fill him with compulsion at that moment. He took a deep breath._

_His vocal cords, and tissues of this throat and sinus cavities had been augmented with parts of various deep sea creatures. Dromerick had located species capable of generating sonic waves and 'booms' as a tool for navigating the dark fathoms, hunting by stunning prey sonically and also doing likewise in battle. The sonic waves, depending on their intensity, which could be controlled, would either bounce off of solid objects and the echo-location effect would reveal to Luke their distance and dimensions or…._

_They could be super-condensed to where they would in fact become sonic blasts._

_Or 'booms.'_

_Luke jerked his body forward as a thunderous 'boom' exploded in the Amphitheatre, ripping down trees, detonating boulders and tore through the synth walls straight through to the simulator's power generator. _

_It exploded in a blinding citrine-cobalt fireball._

_Luke heard the screams of staff and visitors alike as well as cries to engage the extinguisher systems and to 'lock down' the Amphitheatre. But, he quickly generated more sonic blasts, feeling something in the Force guide him to enhance his work with the supernatural power._

_The next sonic-Force boom obliterated the main doors as well as the lock-gates, which had come crashing down to cage him._

_He snarled and looked up._

_Magenta smoke was flowing quickly into the cavernous room…ah, of course._

_Knock-out gas; it was clearly very heavy too, to fall from the ceiling all around him so quickly._

_He took a deep breath, confident it would sustain him for a long time, and make for the transparisteel viewing ports. They lead to the main corridors—and to the exits ultimately._

_He was leaving._

_Until mindless pain seized him and he collapsed, screaming._

_Something drew his attention, even through the haze of agony, to the viewing docks again._

_Dromerick stood there, his face twisted into a mask of hideous triumph and in one outstretched hand was a cylindrical device…pointed at Luke._

_Luke made a sound half groan, half hiss._

_It was some sort of control module, Dromerick must have surgically implanted him with 'safe guards' connected to that—and who knew how many other—devices. _

_Luke's bared his teeth in a mix of pain and resolve. This would not stop him._

_The comm came on again. "Oh, my foolish creation," Dromerick crooned patronizingly, "did you truly believe I'd craft you to be unstoppable with no means of controlling you? You are mine…so submit!"_

_Luke heard the clanking of a metal control…and then white-fire pain lacerated through him._

_He screamed and screamed, until what seemed like a far-off sound of Dromerick yelling and something being smashed._

_The torment abruptly stopped._

_But, what had done it?_

_Luke peered up again, his gaze bleary, but he saw bright azure eyes looking back at him._

_Something parted his lips into a smile._

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Ben grinned in spite of the dire tale. "Nocturne?" he chanced.

The bird, now sitting on Luke's leg beside Fade, who was dozing on his lap, butted his head fondly against Luke's arm.

Luke nodded, petting the falcon's head. "Yes," he proudly said, "Noc."

Ben smiled. "Now, this I must hear," he mock-firmly told the boy.

It sent cool waves of relief through the Jedi when he realized that he wasn't hallucinating.

Luke truly was smiling.

Smiling made him the image of Anakin; nostalgia formed a hard lump in Ben's stomach. But he ignored it; it didn't matter against the revelation that in spite of all the horrors Luke had been forced to undergo, he still was capable of smiling.

Luke's smile dropped at the expression Ben was wearing.

"What is it?"

Ben smiled sadly. "I was just thinking you ought to smile all the time."

Luke appeared genuinely confused. "Why?"

Another tiny, mournful smile. "When you do, you look exactly like you father."

Something heavy and grave settled over Luke. "I…didn't know."

Ben ran a hand through the waves of golden hair. "Your father would want you to be happy, Luke."

Electric blue eyes searched his meaningfully. "I know," he managed to whisper at last, looking away.

Ben held back the remorseful sigh. He picked up Noc and patted his head. "But," he began conversationally, "you said you'd tell me how your intriguing friend managed to save the day."

A small chuckle escaped Luke's lips, and he faced them again, the smile back, though less bright than before. "Well," he refuted amiably, "I never said he 'saved the day'"—

Noc ruffled his feathers, as if offended. Luke chuckled again, reaching out to stroke his brow.

-"but he was a big part of it."

Noc gave him an: 'oh, well that's better,' look.

"Well," Ben coaxed.

Luke gazed at the Jedi thoughtfully a moment, as if reassessing the other, and then resumed his tale.

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**A/N: **Firstly, I'm SO sorry this took so long! Really I shouldn't even be writing today, but I felt so bad about not for so long, I did. Ugh. Why does real life always have to get in the way?! Anyhow, Plz leave your thoughts and comments, they really DO make a huge difference to me! Thanks and till next time…which will be less long than this was! LOL; promise! ;) **Also, for those who have asked, Ghost is still coming, plz bear with me, and yes, you'll be seeing more of Luke in his assassin role of bad-a$$ Spek! Coming soon!


	27. Chapter 27: Falconopteryx

**A/N:** Wow; again, many thanks for the love! I'm especially grateful to those of you who seem to like the OC's. It's really awesome to see them so well received. Anyways, I didn't get any questions, except if I could 'refresh' ppl on who the OC's are and what they do. Here's a quick recap:

Link and Mouse: snarking experts who part time as the best computer hackers in the galaxy.

Fade: Force Ethereal who is almost totally merged with the Force/can phase thru solid objects.

Noc: hybrid of cyber-organic tech; a falcon who is in fact a walking super computer.

Ghost: an assassin comrade of Luke's who you'll all meet later in the fic

Hope that helps! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.27—Falconopteryx _

_Luke had heard whispers of other projects taking place in the fortress. He'd realized after a few months there that the staff was far too numerous for just one endeavor to be taking place, even one as revolutionary and cutting edge as he had been._

_No; Luke had overheard the murmurings of 'creatures' being hybridized in ways other than he was, of Dromerick's insane ambitions reaching past the wild horizon of melding a human with the most powerful attributes of the most powerful species in the galaxy._

_Dromerick had also labored to ensure Luke would have an unstoppable arsenal at his disposal, but something that stretched beyond the latest in illegal weapons and machinery._

_No; he had been designing a team for Luke to partner with, the first members of his army, what Luke had heard Dromerick dub a 'Shadow Legion.'_

_Project Falconopteryx was the beginning off-shoot of that legion, Dromerick's first attempt at creating something that would assist in forging Luke into the deadliest assassin in galactic history._

_To make him infamy beyond infamy. _

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Luke took a steadying breath, Noc looking at him with concern; Luke patted his head reassuringly. Noc only curled consolingly into him; proof enough he wasn't assured at all.

Ben leaned forward slightly. "What exactly was your friend meant to do?" The Force was trembling in his mind, reverberating in ways that meant 'catastrophe.'

Perhaps he lacked the vision though, to see how one little bird could cause such travesties as the Force was implying—or perhaps the Jedi simply didn't want to know.

Luke swallowed, his face stony and resolute. He met the Ben's gaze. "Noc is a walking super-computer, Ben," he quietly explained, "Dromerick had him engineered to pass for a regular falcon wherever he goes, but…it's far from the truth. Noc, on the outside, looks completely normal and ordinary—just like me." He sighed. "But, Noc is very dangerous, because there is no computer or network of computers that is safe from him." He waved at imaginary tech. "Think of it, General, think of the entirety of the Empire, what does it function on?"

"Computer networks," Ben grimly acknowledged.

Luke nodded. "And think of, hypothetically, if Xizor had gotten Noc…and me. Xizor wants to overthrow the Sith and take the Empire for himself. If Xizor had gotten his army, and army of assassins capable of other-throwing the Sith Lords and their followers, he still wouldn't've won. Why? Because there is still COMPOR, there's still the Grand Moffs and Grand Admirals, like Tarkin for instance. They would never permit a criminal underlord, prince or not, to sit on Palpatine's throne. He'd have to get around them too."

Ben nodded; true enough.

"But, now," Luke dourly went on, "imagine if Xizor had a living super-computer, someone who could get into all of the Imperial databanks, learn for Xizor every Imperial secret, gain the location of every secure facility…and then take them all over. Take over all Imperial financial sources, all Imperial military forces, put every military base on lock-down," Luke's eyes were veiled with terror when they met Ben's again. "General, Noc could freeze the Imperial navy, army and secret forces…make them prisoners in their own bases. He could confiscate all Imperial funds, bankrupt the Empire in an instant. He could lock the Imperial echelons out of their own systems. The Empire would be cut off at the knees, crippled, in a moment. What could any Moff or Grand Admiral do against _that?_"

Pictures of panic, horror, and devastation rampaged across Ben's mind. His body chilled all over.

"Nothing," he whispered in finality, "Xizor would have had them at his mercy; they would have had no choice but to make him Emperor." He shook his head, banishing the terrible images. "It was truly the will of the Force that you escaped."

Luke nodded soberly. "We had no other options. But," he added, the most minuscule of smiles twitching his lips, "you are right: the Force was with us. More than you realize."

Ben's eyes fell onto the slumbering Fade. Luke nodded.

"Yes, she was there too."

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_Epiphany hit Luke in an instant as he gazed up into Noc's very intelligent blue eyes._

_He was looking at Project Falconopteryx. But…that meant he had been aware that Luke was trying to escape, and had decided to help him._

_But…why? And how had he known?_

_Explosions ravaged the nearby generators, and Luke reflexively grabbed the falcon and leapt behind a nearby boulder, shielding them from the detonation. _

_Questions would have to wait._

_Luke could hear Dromerick and the techs yelling over the blazing fires and hungrily crackling flames as he made his way to the nearest doorway. Noc tugged on his shoulder, asking to be released, and Luke did so._

_One insert of a dark claw into the terminal beside the door and Luke heard the blissful sound of the locks being overridden; the door swooshed open a moment later._

_Freedom; they were so close._

_The corridors were mostly deserted as Luke made his way out. Smoke obscured everything, Noc pulled Luke towards what had to be the nearest exit, but Luke stopped him._

_He coughed against the smoke and knelt down, so they were still mostly in less dirty air._

"_I…can't leave," he told the bird, who blinked at him in surprise. Luke shook his head. _

"_If we go, they'll just find others," he explained, "do this to others; I…can't allow it. We have to destroy this place. It'll end here then."_

_Noc gazed at him gravely, fully understanding._

_They had to kill Dromerick…and the others. If anyone survived, the project, the sick ambitious plans, might survive too._

_It couldn't be risked, not with a whole galaxy on the line._

_Noc nodded at length; he'd help._

_They made for the control center._

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**A/N: **This one's gonna be a bit shorter friends, just cause I want the 'big revelation' to have its own chapter. I hope you enjoy! Plz review


	28. Chapter 28: Consumed by Darkness

**A/N:** Ok, another chapter! Plz enjoy and leave some love for the author Thanks!

**PS, duh, nothing is mine, except my OC's. SW and its eternal awesomeness is Disney's and hopefully the next trilogy will be EPIC!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.28—Consumed by Darkness_

_Dromerick's mad obsessiveness had compelled him to remain in the control center long after everyone else had abandoned the area. _

_The fire was spreading rapidly; and all fire extinguishing systems had mysteriously gone "offline."_

_Most of the staff were either sensible enough or terrified enough to flee the immediate area, trying either to get out entirely or at least to areas that weren't consumed yet by the spreading fire. Luke couldn't see outside, but by the time he kicked the door in, most of the base was consumed in smoke._

_Something flickered in the back of his mind, and for an instant he saw purple, but he quickly pushed it away._

_Dromerick spun around from punching keys frantically; his eyes were wide and crazed. He pulled out a concealed blaster, a sleek, heavily modified model._

"_This won't stop anything," he snarled in a low, threatening tone. "You'll never escape me!" _

_Luke deftly dodged the onslaught of blaster fire that Dromerick sent at him; he leapt onto the console, pivoting on his heel to kick the blaster from Dromerick's hand. A second kick to Dromerick's face sent the man flying._

_Luke looked to the bird. "Can you get into the systems? Make this place lock down and self-destruct?"_

_The bird nodded, and found a terminal._

"_No!" Dromerick yelled, getting to his knees. "You can't! My life's work-!"_

"_Is over," Luke coldly declared, tucking his boot's toe under the blaster which had landed near him; he flipped it neatly up into his hand. He aimed it at the other's head. Behind him, he heard the computer's vocabulator announce self-destruct in 3 minutes. In the distance, he began to hear the corridor's many doors slamming shut in lock-down._

_Whoever was still in the base was now trapped. Anyone who'd already gotten away they'd have to hunt down and kill, Luke grimly realized._

_The months of pain, agony, fear, uncertainty and a whirlwind of other emotions rose, wailing in Luke's mind, drowning out all else as he cocked the blaster. Dromerick though, caught his hesitation and smirked._

"_Go ahead, boy," the scientist coolly drawled, "kill me. You've already lost."_

_Luke's body began to shake. No; he was lying, he had to be—_

_Dromerick saw and chuckled. "Am I? I've changed you, forever," he grinned wide, "and you'll not elude notice for long. You only _look_ human, but underneath, you're the very monster I intended to create."_

_Luke's emotions exploded into an all-out typhoon. No! There had to be a way to reverse…to make himself normal again._

_This can't be permanent! He can't be damned to this life!_

_His body shook harder. Dromerick leaned forward, leering wickedly._

"_No matter where you go boy, you'll be living a lie, pretending to be what you're not—and what you never can be." He chuckled. "You'll be an outcast throughout the galaxy, surrounded by normal peoples while you live a freak, an abomination; I've won. My work will go on as long as you live."_

Then I won't live_, Luke resolved, _not after this_. _

Luke caught Ben wince at that part; he felt suddenly very tired and empty. The Jedi's encouraging hand lightly squeezing his shoulder helped him re-center. He pressed on.

_Luke shook his head slowly at the other, his voice frigid with determination._

"_No," he calmly retorted, "your work will end today—all of it."_

_Dromerick's eyes widened with understanding._

_Luke didn't stop firing till the cell was beeping 'low power' and Noc was pulling frantically at his sleeve for them to flee._

_Noc hit him with a wing to snap him out of it. Luke shook himself back to awareness and looked down- swallowed hard._

_He hadn't realized that the blaster was in fact a rapid-fire model._

_It eventually registered that he couldn't tell Dromerick had once owned a head—or upper torso._

_Luke swallowed hard, shaking again. He felt a wretch coming._

_Noc pulled him away. They fled, Luke throwing aside the blaster._

_He couldn't believe what he'd just done._

_And he couldn't deny he'd in fact become the monster Dromerick promised he would be._

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Ben said nothing. Luke swallowed hard, feeling his eyes fill. He waited for the Jedi's condemning words about 'killing in cold blood' and 'doing the right thing.'

None came.

He cautiously peered at the Jedi, as the first tear trickled down his cheek.

Ben only pursed his thin lips together; reaching out he wiped the tear away.

"I'm not going to judge you, Luke," he quietly said, "you were…abominable things were done to you. And you acted to stop him from inflicting the same on others."

Luke gulped down the guilt; shaking his head. "It wasn't just that," he lowly confessed. "I…wanted revenge. What he said before I killed him…I," he shuddered, "I could feel…it was _true_, what he told me. I would live a lie…forever…I'd _be_ a lie, forever." He sighed in resignation, putting his face in both hands.

_This was madness_, Luke rebuked himself. _An assassin does not feel, he only acts; an assassin knows no regret, he only learns, advances. Mistakes, if one survives them, are lessons, nothing more._

_There is no remorse, only the opportunity to be more proficient next time._

He held back another sigh.

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Ben softly squeezed his wrist, prompting him to go on. He had thought about assuring Luke that he was not damned to this path forever, but no.

Luke clearly wasn't ready to hear that yet, to believe it yet.

The wound had to be re-opened first, be allowed to bleed clean. Then Luke would be receptive, once he was cleansed from the infection twisting his thinking. Ben's stomach wrenched in guilt.

Would that have helped Anakin? Had Obi-Wan cornered his one-time brother into admitting whatever it was that was slowly eating him away, would 'lacerating' that pain have saved him from the dark side?

Ben would never know.

No; he couldn't think of that now. Anakin had made his choices, tragic and terrible as they had been, but Luke needed Ben now.

Luke was dancing too close to the black precipice his father had fallen into; Ben wouldn't allow him to follow Anakin's self-condemning fate.

"Where does Fade fit into this?" he gently coaxed instead. He reached out and lightly patted her head, which had become a little more solid, along with the rest of her.

My; she did recuperate fast, didn't she?

That seemed to jar Luke a bit back into reality. "After," he whispered, still partly lost in…wherever he was.

"After what?" was the mild reply.

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Vader carefully watched the tracking screen from the DS's main control center.

The homing beacon placed on the intruding freighter was sending a perfect signal back as to its progress. By now, the princess, Jedi and their misguided entourage would be relaxed after a barrage of premature celebrating and congratulations on their 'success.'

Vader smirked behind his mask.

Oh, there was success to be had—his.

Surely Specter would accompany them; the assassin was too thorough by nature and clearly too compassionate as well to act in any other fashion.

Vader's eyes narrowed at that.

A compassionate assassin; until today, he had never believed such a creature existed. Assassins were apathetic, focused only on profit and 'the job.' They might possess fleeting sympathies over this or that galactic issue, such as the civil war, but beyond that, they were emotional black holes; voids.

So…why was the most skilled and infamous of them all different?

It was an intriguing mystery, far too tantalizing for Vader to ignore. The dark side seemed to wrap around the Sith Lord at that moment, whispering that unraveling the assassin's 'emotional anomaly' was the key to not only capturing him, but uncovering who he was.

Vader had tried summoning the dark side to reveal the boy's true identity, and while the dark side had grappled to do his bidding, it seemed to crash against a wall; some sort of impenetrable…something, was protecting the child.

What could be that powerful? Surely not a Jedi, Vader intuited. No, it had to have been whatever that _thing_ was that snatched the boy through the floor just as Vader was about to secure his victory.

The Specter had nearly been his; Vader hissed in anger. Officers and enlisted men around him quietly found tasks that took them farther away from the dark lord.

Vader held back the snort of disgust. Fools; all of them, as if a few meters made any difference to the dark side.

Vader wanted to shake his head at the irony. He had destroyed nearly all of the Jedi Order himself; only a handful of Jedi had escaped the bite of his blade.

But, after today, their Order would be extinct. And, in so doing, Vader would truly be alone.

It was repulsive, how fate dealt him this path. He eradicated all but a few of the Order, but in the whole of the galaxy they were the only adversaries who could provide him anything resembling equality in battle. Granted, he was still the superior of all of them; yet, Vader reflected on how the Jedi had allied together and faced him as a group, it had provide some small amount of challenge.

But, when he obliterated them, he would, in fact, condemn himself. He'd be a warrior without any true equals.

Vader's gaze returned to the screen. Yet; perhaps that would not be so. This strange boy who masqueraded as the galaxy's deadliest assassin, he was something more beneath his armor. Something that had begun to fascinate Vader; the child had fought as an assassin, by and far more adept than any Vader had ever encountered or heard tale of, and yet, he had sided with the Jedi, he had protected them which proved to Vader that the Specter considered the Sith superior in might and power to the Order as well-

-which betrayed sense and vision, more impressive still by the Specter's youthful age.

Vader let out a long breath. And so, it may not be the end after all. Once the Jedi were gone, this mysterious boy may be the one to step into the void, take the Jedi's place as Vader's only true opposition. There were qualities in the child that Vader had detected almost at once: decisiveness, cunning, strategic shrewdness, discernment and methodical focus.

In other words, traits of a born leader—

The thought lit in Vader's mind then, almost of its own volition: would the elusive Specter join the rebellion? Would he fall prey to their pleas of help?

The princess's charm-filled persuasion, would it break past his professional barriers of not getting more involved?

Vader wondered.

But, if the boy did join, that would prove all the better. Once the DS arrived at the rebels' precious base, they would surely mount some desperate attack to save themselves.

If the Specter proved as compassionate towards them, as protective, as he had with the Jedi, he'd certainly feel compelled to aid them; he'd be part of the attack force.

Vader could easily cripple his ship and take the boy prisoner, sparing him from being destroyed with the rebels' secret base.

He smiled, ignoring how it stretched the scarred tissue and burned his face.

It was perfect; he'd destroy the Jedi Order and the rebellion in one blow…plus take for himself an apprentice.

Together they'd overthrow Palpatine and make the galaxy as it was always meant to be.

He observed as the marker of the YT-model freighter continued on in hyperspace. Vader had been mentally disqualifying where they could possibly be heading based on their trajectory.

The dark side gathered around him, whispering into his intuition the location.

And suddenly, he knew; unyielding certainty filled him on where their base was to be found.

Vader restrained the disdainful hiss as he sensed Tarkin stalk up behind him.

_No_, he amended silently; _today he'd end the Jedi, the rebels—and the Emperor's pet governor._

"Well?" Tarkin demanded, "I took an awful risk, Vader. Did it work?"

Vader waited a long moment; wanting to chuckle at the tension soundlessly exploding around them as the control center staff watched their two powerful leaders clash wills.

"You may relax, Governor," Vader drawled condescendingly at length, turning to take in Tarkin's anger-pinched face, "the beacon is secure. Tell the navigation crew to set course for the fourth moon of Yavin."

Tarkin's eyes widened. "Why is that?"

Vader debated whether to laugh or strangle the man. He elected neither—for now. "Because, Governor," he slowly replied, "that is the location of their base."

He made to stride away, deciding he'd given Tarkin far more of his time than he'd deserved.

"Are you certain?" Tarkin barked after him, "Did they land?"

"Not yet," Vader calmly replied, halting imperiously and half-facing him, "but you will make course all the same…unless you have not successfully repaired the station after your…_plan_ went awry?"

The last was dripping sarcasm. Vader smiled at the shade of scarlet washing over the other man's face and the nervous twitches of their onlookers. Specter had humiliated Tarkin, thorough and irrevocably and they both knew it—along with everyone else present.

Once report was made to Imperial Center, only a crushing victory would offer Tarkin any hope of salvaging what was left of his once illustrious—and ruthless—reputation.

And Tarkin was a ruthless and efficient man—pity for him he hadn't counted on Specter being even more so.

Pity for Tarkin; Vader had been relishing in it ever since the assassin's escape. He was certain Tarkin knew that too.

"The station is fully repaired and operational," was the bit out retort, "we will set course at once," Tarkin clipped out, turning to an officer with an expression that clearly said: _See to it_, "we will wipe the rebellion out is existence and end this once and for all."

Vader offered an indifferent wave. "I'll be in my chambers; have someone notify me when we arrive there."

And he was away without a backwards glance. Once alone in the corridors he permitted himself a soft snicker.

No matter how Tarkin behaved now, his fate was sealed. There were too many men who'd seen Vader kill Jedi, Vader battle Specter, Vader order the beacon to be placed on the freighter.

And far too many men had beheld Tarkin's rants of temper, Tarkin's inefficiency, Tarkin's impotence in handling the crisis of viral takeover aboard the DS; and Tarkin's pronounced failure against the Jedi and Specter.

Plus, allowing their chief prisoner, the princess- plus many rebel prisoners- to escape, with only Vader acting to glean some gain from the catastrophe.

And _Tarkin_ was in charge of the DS, not the dark lord. It was too delicious.

The Emperor would thank him now, for when he killed Tarkin; punishment for failure…and embarrassing the Empire.

Embarrassing Palpatine. The immanency of revenge filled Vader's mouth with a delectably sweet taste.

Vader entered his chambers; they were, as all of his quarters, sparsely furnished but proficient.

Vader had no care for wealth, luxury, adornments; pointless distractions, all of them- unnecessary.

No; he made for his meditation area. He wanted to see if he could reach out and locate the Specter.

Before the battle, they had to have…a little talk.

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**A/N:** Yeah, I didn't plan it this way, but Vader kinda took over this chapter. But, I let him cause he's awesome. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I LUV to hear your thoughts, both returning reviewers and new ppl! Don't be shy! It was my b-day 2 days ago, so you could consider a review a b-day present Anyways, till next time; plz also include any questions you might have! BTW, for those of you who were asking, the 'big revelation' wasn't in this chapter, that's still coming, like I said, I didn't intend for Vader to take this chapter over, but he said he'd Force choke me if I resisted, so yeah. Till next time


	29. Chapter 29: Blaster & Blade

**A/N: **Hey all, thanks for the reviews and b-day wishes; totally feelin' the love! LOL; so I didn't get any questions, ergo…onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.29—Blaster & Blade _

Luke forced himself to maintain a breathing exercise he'd learned during his 'indoctrination' intended for use during exceedingly stressful missions.

Finishing this morbid tale apparently fell under said category.

_Breathe; clear mind, _he ordered himself, _all that matters is the 'mission.' Push all else out but the mission._

He was too preoccupied with the present situation to think over-much about the subtle dark flicker on his edge of awareness, searching.

"You're doing very well, Luke," Ben softly, sincerely told him.

Luke only nodded, glancing down at Fade. A smile twitched his lips.

"I owe her so much," he whispered, mostly to himself.

Ben took the opening. "Why?" He encouraged.

Luke returned to his tale.

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_It didn't take long for the self-destruct to tear down most of the massive complex. Luke and Noc weaved through demolished corridors, threaded through fallen debris, support beams and such. _

_The more conspicuous ways in and out had been set with their own detonators apparently, and so they were driven to locate a more discreet doorway._

_Coughing from thick billows of smoke and grabbing for support when another nearby explosion sent them reeling, Luke, led by Noc who had 'borrowed' a schematic for the full facility, led them down to the lower hanger bay._

_Luke found that his eyes were adjusting between infrared and thermal imaging. He was softly 'echoing' as well, just hard enough to penetrate the thick ebony clouds but not so much to loosen fallen transparisteel and duracreet to plummet down atop them._

_He had wrapped his jacket around Noc part around his beak to help screen out the smoke, and part to protect the bird's delicate technological features._

_After prying open a set of double-doors, the pair peered down into a long stairway, winding into a dark abyss below. The fire had not reached that far down, fresh air wafted up to meet their welcome noses._

_Luke wiped away a grimy mix of sweat and soot. "Does this lead to the hanger?"_

_Noc chirped and nodded. _

"_All right." He advanced._

_It was a long trek down, so Luke sprinted quickly, only his clanging boots for sound and the growls of ravaging infernos gradually fading behind them; but they eventually halted by a monolithic set of metal doors. Luke peered down to Noc, who wiggled out of his arms and found a port._

_One claw inserted and a moment later, the large doors grated loudly as they parted for them._

_Luke leaned forward a bit to take in these new surroundings._

_The hanger was enormous, easily ten times larger than any he'd ever heard of. _

_And the tech…it was amazing. Sleek, lethal looking vessels were neatly lined up, some completed, others only partly…a few merely framed in so far._

_His armada, Luke realized. Had Dromerick created his full army, these would no doubt have been their space craft. The vile scientist had truly thought of everything._

_Luke shook away his incredulous numbness and made for the nearest ship. He and Noc would get far, far away from here and…Luke wasn't sure._

_All that mattered now was escaping. All else would come later, he told himself._

_The only thing that saved him was hearing the blaster cock. _

_Instinctively, he leapt behind a pile of metal crates as the blaster fire opened on where he'd stood a moment ago. _

_Curses! He remembered only then throwing the last blaster away…well, it had run low anyways—_

_He pushed the thought away._

"_Thought you'd escape, eh boy?" a snide voice questioned. Luke recognized it as the guard who'd threatened him just before taking him the Arena for Dromerick's 'demonstration.' What had his name been? Brovek?_

"_You're not escaping anywhere, boy!" The man bellowed. "I'm sure by now you've killed Dromerick, but you're still gonna make the rest of us very rich!"_

_He could smell them now, as he heard their boot-steps quietly moving around him—surrounding them. There were easily 25 or so of them._

_Not a problem. But, the facility shook again and Luke wondered just how long until the self-destruct reached these lower-most depths._

_It was clearly on its way down._

_In the next moment the small army of guards and such attacked. Luke nimbly back-flipped over one, snatching a sheathed blade off his chest guard in the process and lost no time in spotting the weaknesses in their body armor. _

_A few kicks and slashes took down the less wary ones, too confident in outnumbering him; Luke spied Noc heading for a terminal. But, why were the red lights flashing overhead?_

_He got his answer as secret door panels all around the hanger opened and out stepped 50 or 60 assassin droids, all with multiple arms, each bearing a blaster, vibro-shiv or some other weapon. He watched their optic lenses all lock onto…him._

"_C'mon, brat," Brovek ground out, "surrender. Even you can't take down all of us now."_

_Luke let his shoulders slump in defeat; they were most likely right after all, but when a few of them lowered their weapons—he charged._

'_Most likely right' and 'definitely right' didn't mean the same thing, after all._

_Luke fought viciously, slashing and stabbing; he flicked a wrist as a man brought down his blaster, neatly capturing his weapon. _

_Blaster in one hand, blade in the other, Luke carved a bloody path to freedom, dodging, kicking and killing._

_He morbidly saw that only his assassin's skills could save him now._

_He gave himself over to the training and hoped he wouldn't lose his soul to buy his freedom._

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_As Luke carried out his grisly deed, Noc desperately sought through the remnants of the main computer for another project he'd come across while covertly searching the systems for a means to escape._

_Dromerick had had him engineered to be technorganic, a perfect blend of flesh and machine; but what Dromerick had not anticipated was with the melding of super-advanced cyber-tech into his brain, Nocturne had evolved a conscience, an understanding, as his mind grew and became more enlightened, of right versus wrong._

_Being used as a pawn for a dark prince to conquer the galaxy? It didn't take Noc's hyper-advanced capabilities to figure out that was wrong. Yes, he'd been 'programmed' to obey, but when his mind had progressed to the free-thinking stage, he had already gathered enough self-preservation understanding to know it'd been wise to conceal the true progress his mind had reached, for all of their sakes._

_And then he had hacked into the systems to learn even more…and that's when he'd found Project Specter: Luke, last name: unknown._

_But, it hadn't stopped there. He'd also discovered that Dromerick had, while working for Vader, acquired an obsession with understanding a supernatural phenomenon known as the Force._

_And Dromerick's obsession had taken him over enough to want to master it as well, seeing the power it gave Vader to choke, to terrify—to kill. As well as giving Palpatine the power to conquer the galaxy. Dromerick wanted to find a means for a non-sensitive to harness the Force._

_Ergo, he'd sought the means to create a 'circuit' that would link him to the Force. However, he couldn't exactly go to the Sith for aid, so he found another avenue._

_He purchased some Jedi from the Empire, circuitously of course, and began to experiment on them. Once he documented strange brain-wave activity in them, he began to test and record which sets of brain waves would yield which results. It was enough to convince him that Jedi could in fact communicate with the Force._

_Which meant that something in this 'Force' was communicating back; perhaps something that could be captured and controlled._

_And that's when the research became very interesting indeed._

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**A/N: **So, that's it for now folks. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know your thoughts if you did; reviews are love, and candy all rolled into one! Till next time!


	30. Chapter 30: The Force Ethereal

**A/N: **Hey all; tryin' to get this sequence done cause I know all of you wanna see the Yavin battle as much as I do! Onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.30: The Force Ethereal_

_Noc watched in his peripherals as his partner savagely battled against ridiculous odds; even without his cutting-edge algorithm ability, Noc didn't need it to know his new friend was going to be overwhelmed in time. With each barrage of assassin droids he took down, more poured out of the ante-chambers to replace them. _

_Project Specter was beginning to show signs of fatigue. Noc had to call in aid._

_He found the imprisoned Jedi on level 84. He was about to command the cells to open when he caught the notes on them in a side file:_

"_For reasons of security and efficiency, Dr. Dromerick has ordered the Jedi's conscious minds medically destroyed. Appropriate serums have been fed into the designated lobes to render Jedi subjects brain-dead. Subjects now only have active sub-conscious level thought."_

_Noc felt his stomach drop. The Jedi couldn't help themselves now, much less him and his partner._

_But then, he read further, the experiments done on them; how Dromerick simulated certain brainwave sequences in their minds by feeding special energy patterns into their subconscious awareness. _

_Before caution could deter Noc from his idea, he activated all of the tests at once, feeding every 'pre-determined' energy frequency into the Jedi as one concentrated force—_

_Just then a horrific explosion tore through the entire base, devouring all of the upper levels totally, leaving nothing but ash and smoke behind._

_The final stages of the self-destruct had begun._

_Another super-massive detonation rocked the lower levels trenchantly; Noc watched as most of the men and droids went flying, his friend grabbing a ship by stabbing it with the knife to anchor himself._

_Another explosion, this one closer; sent debris falling from overhead, large pieces crashing atop several ships._

_Noc wondered if they'd make it out alive._

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_In Dromerick's vast arsenal of 'ingredient's' for his deranged plans, he'd kept enormous tanks of experimental chemicals in cool storage; most of them synthetic, new compounds, highly unstable—and very dangerous. While they were heat-resistant, they weren't exempt from the self-destruct._

_Luke smelled the strange, toxic fumes when the first round of them was destroyed; most of his foes were now on the floor, dead or dying. He could risk of glancing up._

_The last explosion had knocked a gaping hole in the ceiling; he could see the gold-citrine of flames overhead, partly obscured by onyx smoke._

_Everyone stilled at the deafening groan of metal buckling under too much pressure._

_And then Luke knew: it was all, the entire base, gonna collapse on top of them._

_His stomach tied in a sick knot._

_He turned behind him. Most of the ships were damaged by dropping debris; a tell-tale sound made him leap for cover as more twisted metal and duracreet landed nearby, followed by more and more plummeting wreckage._

_Only a couple ships were still flyable. He looked to Noc, who swooped to him._

"_We have to go," he told the bird._

_Noc eagerly nodded. Luke made for a ship—but was cut off._

_Brovek and the remaining opposition were gathered in his path—and new players emerged from the shadows around them. Luke's eyes narrowed. Ah; their suits masked their scent, that's why he didn't smell their approach._

"_It's over boy," Brovek avowed coldly, blaster pointed, "if you wanna live, you have to surrender. Either that, or stay here and die. But, we've already got the ships left in lock-down, slave-programmed to only us. So, we're your only hope to survive. Make your choice."_

_And then, the next blast._

_The explosion was blinding. Luke had to cover his eyes as it ripped through the hanger; he screamed as debris, encrusted with the experimental chemicals washed over him—Noc had darted away just in time. Magenta and cobalt…something coated his skin, burning and he screamed. His wail was drowned out by the next explosion though, that destroyed the final chemical vats and the base began its decent._

_Luke struggled to find cover, but the chemicals were in his eyes and aside from vague blobs that may have been crates, he couldn't reach shelter in time._

_The heat seared his already scorched skin. He coughed hard against the billowing smoke._

_And then the hanger computers began to explode._

_A terrible ringing sound stabbed into his mind. It only took a moment to realize: the Jedi! The computer had exploded, putting the 'frequency program' into overload! The energy sequences being fed into their collective subconscious was off the charts!_

_Luke yelled as the pain dug deeper and deeper into his mind; inside him, in his very blood, he felt something…break free, as if once partly asleep but now fully awakened._

_Around him, he could hear the very air suddenly bending and shifting. More debris fell, mountainous this time, covering him in a tomb of metal and bizarre chemicals._

_Luke curled up into a little ball, waiting for the end. _

_He was going to die; he and Noc._

_He heard the dying screams of the final clutch of guards who had waited too long to flee, so eager they were for the promise Luke held of wealth and power._

_The fortress shook, he heard scraping and screeching._

_Noc; he was trying to dig him out!_

"_No, Noc!" Luke choked out in raspy shouts. "Get to a ship! Save yourself!"_

_Retorting screeches met his ears; 'they were either escaping together or dying together,' was the jist of it Luke assumed._

_He was about to order Noc to leave, until another explosion shattered the chamber. The next would kill them, Luke was certain._

_He had never done it before, but he pled to the Force then:_

'_Please, let Noc live,' he thought, 'I don't care now what happens to me, it'll be better if I die, but Noc didn't deserve this; please let him live.'_

_He didn't expect the Force to answer._

_But it did._

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Ben patted Fade's head knowingly, his wise eyes lifted from her to meet Luke's.

Luke was stunned to see admiration in them.

A Jedi, looking so at an assassin?

He found Obi-Wan more baffling by the moment. He wondered if the old Jedi was doing it, confusing him, on purpose.

Somehow, he doubted it.

"I see now," Ben said at length, "what Qui-Gon meant when he assured me you were 'well.'" He glanced away from Luke's bemused look with a thoughtful sigh. "It's apparent, despite the horror, the travesty inflicted on you, the Force was working great things in your life," he faced Luke again, who was now regarding him cautiously. "Your path was so very predestined," he added slowly, with conviction, "only the son of Anakin Skywalker would have had the strength of will to bear it."

Fingers ran though Luke's golden hair. "Your father, we he here, would be so proud of you."

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"…would be so proud of you."

Luke put his head down. Would he be? A Jedi Knight, a leader in the Jedi Council…a general like Kenobi? Would a man like him look at a son who was an assassin, an escaped _experiment_, and feel pride?

No; Luke could not persuade himself to believe it. It must have shown on his face, because Kenobi leaned forward, his eyes determined.

"He would Luke; I practically raised your father myself, remember? I met him when he was nine."

Luke slowly nodded, but still far from convinced. Kenobi was showing him kindness for his father's sake, were Luke's surname not 'Skywalker,' would the aged Jedi still offer such compassion?

He wanted to think so, but wondered.

Weathered hands closed around his again, asking that he finish the tale. Luke was silently relieved, thought partly unnerved, that Obi-Wan had learned to read him so well so quickly that he could discern when Luke needed 'breaks' from the narrative versus when he needed to retreat back into the story—such as now.

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_The stabbing sensation hadn't left as Luke waited for the end; in fact, it grew. He had already crumpled to the floor, clutching his head, curled on himself. He was screaming too much to demand Noc abandon him any longer._

_They were both going to die; he was certain of it now._

_When the next blast hit, it took Luke a moment to realize that it was a blast, but not a detonation._

_He warily opened an eye._

_Why was the chamber filled with a strange…purplish light?_

I come, little one_, a voice resonated in his head, through his entire being. _I come_._

_It was the strangest sensation, a vibration of the words echoed through his entire body, as if he were connected to the words somehow._

_Then the final blast ripped mercilessly through the base; the ceiling fell, Luke cried out and he felt…something tear into and through him._

_His entire body, his mind and soul, felt torn asunder._

_All went black._

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**A/N: **Yes, kids, I'm ending it here; what's a chapter from me w/o a cliffie, right? *Cue maniacal laughter* Anyways, you know what to do now, right? Read, enjoy, review! ;) Till next time!


	31. Chapter 31: Threshold of Fate

**A/N:** Hey all; as always, many thanks for the love the last chapter received! I love hearing your thoughts and comments on this fic; they mean a LOT, so plz keep them coming Also, I'm putting the word out, on 9/01/13, I'll be changing my FanfictionDotNet name from "Eversotd" to "L.C. Lane." Reason? It's more pronounceable, and easier to remember. Pozagee on YouTube is reading my "Aladdin and KOT" rewrite aloud on her channel and hearing her say my 'name' made me realize a change was in order. So, plz make note.

Also, SO many thanks again for the b-day wishes! I did have a fab b-day, so yeah, it was fun. But, from the last reviews I received, I've been tormenting many souls with my cliffies…so…we'll see how this one ends. If it's any consolation, I don't manually end the chapters; they tell me when to end them. So, yeah. Take it up with the muses!

Finally, I've been getting many questions of when we'll be returning to the 'main story.' Either this chapter or the next will finish up the 'backstory' sequence.

Other than that…onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.31—Threshold of Fate_

_Luke knew he had blacked out. So, why did he feel so…aware? It wasn't so much as his awareness ceased, but that it had expanded._

_The first thing he realized was he felt suspended in some way. In the vast distance, he could hear the final explosions leveling the fortress to rubble. Some part of him could vaguely see the monument to everything insidious and vile collapsing in a deafening, glorious ruin._

_The glow of satisfaction warmed his cold, aching insides._

Do not rejoice in death and destruction, young one, _a voice suddenly said and Luke started, though in this dark, intangible place it just barely registered that he had a body…somewhere_. While those who tormented you are now dead, they have also thrown away their final chance at redemption, which is a mournful thing indeed.

_Something hard twisted in Luke's stomach._

_The amethyst light returned, surrounding him and moving in a slow, multi-shaded circle…wherever he was. Luke glanced around, somehow feeling more focused but still not able to see his own form._

_What he could suddenly see around him were a group of translucent humans and aliens in robes he recognized—_

_Jedi._

How…where am I?_ he asked tentatively._

_One of the Jedi, a human man about 40, with short hair and chiseled features, smiled reassuringly at him. He stood directly in front of Luke, or Luke assumed as much since he didn't have to turn to see him face on._

_It belatedly occurred to him he didn't have to 'turn' to see any of them. Somehow, he was facing them all…at once._

_What had happened to him!?_

_The Jedi reached a hand out, trying to console. _Peace, young one, _he said, his mouth moving and yet his voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. _You are on the Threshold, the place in the Force between the physical reality and the spiritual plain. You are quite safe.

How did I get here? _Luke asked, reflexively licking his lips, or trying to. He could scarce feel his mouth or tongue. Then, the taste hit him—the chemicals._

_The Jedi must have sensed his alarm because he nodded_. Yes, _he said_, all the various types of chemical compounds the scientist Dromerick was experimenting with detonated and covered you…just as we passed into the Force. It was that, in part, which allowed this connection to be forged…though it will not last forever.

What does that mean? _Luke inquired._

It means, young one, _another Jedi, a Kamino female said_, that while we have passed into the Force, you have not yet fulfilled your destiny. We have come to give you guidance, so that you may set your feet upon the right path.

_Luke's tense shoulders—wherever they were—unknotted_. I'm not dead? _He started_. Noc! Did he—

_The first Jedi raised a stalling hand._ He yet lives; he is meant to assist you on your path.

However, _a third Jedi put in, a Quarren male_; you and your friend shall not make this journey alone. _He waved over them._

_The purplish light was still present, but Luke could sense it this time:_

_The light, whatever it was, had been watching and listening all this time_.

_It was…alive!?_

What is it? _He asked in amazement. Was it part of the Force?_

_The first Jedi nodded, apparently hearing Luke's thought_. Indeed, _he avowed gesturing with_ _one hand_. The scientist, Dromerick, obsessively delved into the Force with his tests and machinations, not truly understanding the consequences of his research…but that too, was fore-ordained.

Why? _Luke questioned._

Because, he awakened a long-disremembered species of creature, the only of its kind that has simply _been_, for all time, part of the Force, he explained. We Jedi, and the Sith as well, had forgotten the legends of them eons ago—the Force Ethereals.

_Luke hadn't traveled yet, but Telile had regaled him with endless stories of the galaxy and strange creatures to be found in it…but these beings he'd never heard of._

_But apparently the Jedi hadn't either, so, he was lost._

How did you come to discover them then? _He pressed._

_The roiling light shifted over them, making a soft sound almost like a happy moan, Luke thought it sounded…feline-like?_

_Could a Force being sound that way? Luke supposed if it dwelt in the omnipotence of the Force, it was free to sound however it wished._

_The Quarren raised his clawed hands to re-gain Luke's full attention_. It is important now, child, that you heal and then find your true path. When you destroyed the installation, you released all of the experimental compounds on us, as well as yourself, just as the Force-delving instruments Dromerick invented, were drawing on the Force to their peak—through us. This is probably the only time in all of history when such a thing will take place, which is why the outcome is so crucial. It will provide you a singular advantage in what now must be done.

'A singular advantage'? _Luke carefully echoed_.

_The Quarren nodded_. Yes; for, the combination of the compounds, the activated instruments, Dromerick's experiments and your own unmatchable Force sensitivity, all came together to unintentionally awaken the Ethereals and make them cognizant of what is unfolding in the mortal reality. They had slumbered for countless millennia, heedless of what was taking place in our universe. But, once they became aware…they decided to help us.

_Luke gasped_. Help us? How?

We will let your new companion explain that to you, _the Kamino-Jedi put in kindly_. _She waved to herself and the other Jedi and Luke realized that they were fading away._

_Only the purple light lingered, in fact, as the Jedi became more washed out looking, the light intensified, slowly taking over his vision._

Farewell, young Jedi, _the human bade_, go forth and fulfill your destiny.

May the Force be with you, _the Quarren said_.

_And they were gone._

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_A sharp pain in Luke's chest brought him to. Panting, as if he just surfaced from deep water, Luke glanced around a mainly, the training taking him over without it registering to him._

_The first thing he realized was he was sitting on a palette, which was filling a niche against the wall of what appeared to be personal quarters, or perhaps a lounge._

_He could hear the hum of engines; and he recognized the particular rhythm: hyperspace._

_He was inside a ship then…but how?_

_He moved to sit up, but hissed as pain lanced through him afresh. He peered down at himself. _

_He was no longer garbed in his training gear, but enough of his skin was exposed to fill him with alarm at what he saw._

_His body was grossly burned and malformed. His arms and bare torso were raw-pink and gnarled from burns. He swallowed down an acidy wretch that climbed his throat, reminding himself that with all of the strange chemicals that saturated his body, plus the fire, plus the myriad explosions, he was deeply fortunate this was all that happened to him._

_He touched his face carefully. It was also raw and tender; he could smell burn salves all over him. The taste of meds was also thick on his tongue._

_Someone had been treating him then; he exhaled in relief._

_It had to be Noc; he was here too then. Gratitude for Noc's survival wrapped around him like a comforting blanket; his avian friend was all right, as the Jedi had promised._

_He tried to rise, and even as every iota of his body shrieked at him to lie back down, he gritted his teeth and pushed the pain away._

_Once standing, though hunched over, he examined his clothes._

_He was dressed in white med garb, a simple tunic that tied in front with a white belt, and simple white pants._

_Near his bed, tan-ivory boots sat, he ignored them for the time being and headed for the door, his feet quietly padding against icy metal flooring._

_His hand against the control panel was enough to make the door hiss as it slid to once side._

_He instinctively headed for the cockpit._

_He exhaled in relief as he passed into the snug cockpit to see Noc perched dutifully atop the command console, his claws inserted into the right ports. Luke spied lines of code running across Noc's dark pupils…he was talking to the ship then._

"_Noc," he softly greeted._

_The blue-silver falcon instantly veered to him, dislodging his claws from the control board and threw himself with a joyful screech into Luke's arms._

_Luke winced at first, his body still sore and raw, but he still laughed through the pain, holding his courageous friend._

"_I'm so relieved you're all right," Luke whispered, a surge of emotion closing his throat. A tear slipped out despite his struggle to stop it, and it slid down his burned cheek to land atop Noc's head. Luke laughed in embarrassment, hiccupping at the end, and wiped it away._

_Noc clicked his beak happily, hardly looking put out._

"_Some assassin I would have made," Luke mumbled in mock debasement and grinned at Noc's 'reproaching' face. Luke paused, the situation suddenly coming to bear on him._

"_How…how did we get here?" he asked the bird. The last thing he recalled was the explosion, blacking out—_

_The ghostly Jedi-_

_The amethyst light—_

_Luke stilled, feeling another presence in the cock-pit with them. Why had he not noticed it before?_

"_Noc," he whispered, tense, not daring to move, "what's in here with us?"_

'_I am here, little friend,' a lilting voice greeted. Luke spun around._

_A haze of lavender-grape light filled the opening behind him. He watched, clutching Noc protectively as it seemed to collapse on itself, solidifying…._

_When it took form, Luke remembered the feline-moaning noise from his vision._

"_You," he murmured in disbelief, "you are the strange light I saw?"_

_Before his eyes floated a small, cat-like being with large jewel-like eyes and a very long, swaying tail. She had sleek lines and an elegant shape; Luke somehow didn't find is shocking that she was still partly transparent, knowing what the Jedi had told him._

"_You're a Force Ethereal," he quietly asked._

_It nodded. 'I am,' she affirmed._

"_Do you have a name?"_

'_We have no need of names where I come from,' the Ethereal supplied, 'we each possess an individual sense, we each feel different, and that is how we tell one another apart.'_

"_I see; what should I call you then?"_

_The Ethereal blinked at that, apparently not considering it before. _

'_Hmmm,' she mused, 'perhaps you could give me a name I may use in this realm?' _

_Her bell-like voice was hopeful, as if the concept of having a 'name' excited her._

_Luke couldn't help but smile, even though it hurt his face. "I'll think of one," he promised and her already brilliant eyes gleamed in anticipation. He paused, the weight of last few hours coming manifesting on him again. He let out a breath, trying to keep his thoughts under control, despite the invisible mountain crushing him, making it hard to breathe._

_The boy inside of him, the…however old he was now…child wanted to find a discreet corner and sob his pain and trauma out; but…the trained professional inside said emotions had to wait._

_He required answers _now_, pragmatism said; confronting the horrors he'd languished under would have to wait._

_He exhaled again. "The Jedi in the vision said you would explain 'the rest' to me?"_

_The Ethereal nodded, her disembodied form bobbling a bit at the action. 'I shall,' she said, and wove herself over to the co-pilot's chair, gesturing with her tail for him to sit. He did, and Noc re-perched himself on the console, focusing on the ship's controls again. Luke could see in the bird's peripherals that he kept part of his attention on the Ethereal._

_He was eager for answers too._

_The immortal curled her tail neatly around herself and glanced away, no doubt deciding where to start. She nodded to herself and began:_

'_We Ethereals are what I shall call "pure immortals,"' she described, 'we have always existed, so long as there has been a "Force," we have dwelt within it. We never possessed corporeal bodies, as you have, we were never "born," though we age in ways different from yours; and we've had very little contact with the mortal domain, though we have made ourselves known to your kind in ages far gone.'_

_Luke nodded. "So, why are you here now? The Jedi said you have 'awakened' because of Dromerick's experiments."_

_She nodded. 'Yes,' she replied, and Luke noted she never used her mouth, instead speaking directly into his and Noc's minds; 'you see, in an era long forwent, we fell into deep slumber, I do not recall why, only that the sojourning of the mortal Dromerick into the fathoms of the Force quickened us to wakefulness. Some of our kind, those adept in penetrating the veil between our two worlds, sought out the cause of these strange…aberrations and brought back to us the most dire of news: that evil had swept over and consumed your realm and that there laid amongst your worlds no wielder capable of overthrowing this evil kingdom called "Empire."'_

_Luke nodded soberly. "And so, your people decided to help us?"_

_The Ethereal nodded. 'Yes. We assembled together and spoke of this surge of darkness which pervaded your realm; the Force is deeply unbalanced, yet it was still not enough to break our deep sleep. Regardless, our options to assist your realm were quite limited.'_

"_Why is that?"_

'_Because, our nature is very intangible,' was the somber reply, 'our nebulous composition makes it very trying for us to "anchor" ourselves in your reality. However, the mortal Dromerick provided rectification for us.'_

_Luke leaned forward, bewildered. Noc perked at this news too. _

"_How?" the boy asked._

_The Ethereal seemed thoughtful for a moment, as if recalling. 'We were at a loss of how to construct a bridge to bind our two realities together; such knowledge did once exist,' she let out a noise reminiscent of a sigh and Luke's brow furrowed in curiosity, 'but, it has sadly been lost to us. We do not recollect how. And yet, the mortal scientist, when his strange chemicals were mixed with your Force-charged form, they melded to you. Remnants of them linger even now, upon your flesh.'_

_Luke cringed as that revelation sent a chill crawling up his burned limbs. Noc brushed his head comfortingly against Luke's one arm, lightly enough to not hurt._

_Luke gave him a wan, grateful smile._

_The Ethereal saw, and hovered over the chair, distracting Luke from his grim thoughts. 'But, you should rejoice at this, little friend, for the mortal, however wicked, his ambitions forged a path where the impossible might become possible.'_

_Luke waited. No prompting was needed for this._

'_You see, my kind were able to look upon your realm, to observe, as if standing upon a cliff and seeing your world in a far off distance, yet between the cliff-side and the distance a thick, impenetrable forest cut between, barring us from doing more than observing. For us to reach your reality, for us to more than see, but to interact, we were required to find a means to penetrate the "thick forest" which lies between our realm and your own. The mortal made this possible.'_

_Noc chirped inquisitively. _

'_The mortal's devices, which manipulated the minds of the Jedi, created a resonation within them, a reverberation in the Force that was steady and continuous enough that we were able to influence on our end, and use it to forge such a bridge. However,' and her face downcast, and Luke wondered at the sadness she wore, 'many of my kind depleted their strength to stabilize this bridge; even with their expenditure of energy, the pathway was only established enough for one of us to cross.'_

"_And they chose you?" Luke questioned. _

_She shook her head. 'No, I volunteered.' _

_Luke wasn't sure what to say to that, so he remained silent. It was too soon to know if he should be grateful, or wary. Training kept him cautious, for the time being._

_The Ethereal shifted a little in the air, perhaps trying to find a new comfortable position, then went on: 'After the resonation was used to create a bridge, I began to venture across to your side. However, the bridge began to collapse almost as soon as I trod upon it. Were it not for the chemicals and your potency in the Force, I perhaps would not have succeeded in reaching here.'_

_Luke gaped at that. "What would have happened to you?"_

_She looked forlorn. 'I know not; perhaps I would have been trapped in the Threshold forever, unable to contact either side. I…try to not dwell on what might have been.'_

_Luke nodded, approving her sense._

_Her tail twitched as she mused aloud. 'In spite of this, your Force sense is incredibly bright; you appear to me as a brilliant star, a sun in the Force. So much light exudes from you; I was able to see you, even after I lost sense of the mortal world's direction. You were as a beacon to me.'_

_Luke sank into the chair's back; he could not have heard that right. Light, coming from him: a trained killer? A murderer and assassin? An experiment gone awry? _

_Truly? Light shone from him?!_

_It was difficult to find his voice. He found himself staring out the viewport in numbed shock as his mouth moved but no words came for several moments. Then: "You're…are you certain? Light, coming from…me?"_

_His mind fuzzed over in disbelief. He had convinced himself what felt like an eternity ago he'd become everything that was dark and lost. Nothing even close to where light was._

_The Ethereal nodded emphatically. 'Oh, I am most certain; you should see yourself even now, as I do. You illuminate all of this ship in the most wonderful opulence; you glow like the stars before us. It is lovely to be near you, young friend. To linger in your presence makes me long less for my home.'_

_She's homesick; Luke berated himself for not thinking about that. "I never thanked you," he realized aloud, "for saving us; Noc and me."_

_She dipped her head to one side. 'It was my destiny to save you; I felt this.'_

_Luke's gaze riveted up to her. "Your destiny? Your kind has destinies?"_

'_Not always in the sense mortals do; we are timeless, remember? But yes, we serve a purpose, but perhaps I should delve into that another time. We are approaching a planet; I was able to heal you mostly, but you need medical supplies and food. We shall acquire these things and then decide what to do next.'_

_Luke regarded his still partly mangled form again. "You healed me? How," he swallowed, but had to know, "how bad was I?"_

_Her countenance saddened. 'Little one, I reattached three of your limbs and regenerated most of your organs. While the scientist greatly enhanced you, I fear he did not prepare you for being blown up. I was able to teleport us all into this ship just after the final explosion. Your body was dismembered and badly charred. It took me several hours to restore you to this point.'_

_Luke was too sick to speak, too overwhelmed to vomit; too…everything to anything._

"_I…I need some time," he said, rising and making for that discreet corner so he could have a nervous breakdown in peace._

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**A/N: **Hello all, ok, so my truck is still being a pain, so prayers that we can get it fixed. My bro replaced the starter and I had the shop install a new battery, and still nada. Ugh. But, I can't afford a new vehicle right now because I have college and wedding expenses (my bro's) to take care of too. Bridal shower and all that. So, he's gonna try the starter cable tomorrow and hopefully that'll do it. *sigh* Anyways, we're nearly done with the reminiscing, probably one more chapter; sorry no Vader this time. But…what did you think of this? Fade's appearance and how she came to be was the 'big rev,' I hope it lived up to your expectations. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. But, it's almost 1am and I need ZZZZZZ before work tomorrow and all dat, so plz leave a review; and thanks for the new alerts/faves. It's sooo great that more ppl are reading this fic!


	32. Chapter 32: Hope

**A/N:** Hello all; so, got some reviews today and many thanks for the feedback! Some of the comments really made my day. To Lereniel: yep, Fade has reminded me of the Cheshire Cat too and I LUV that you also thought that! I'm happy that most of you are being so beautifully patient as we wrap up this sequence. As I said last chapter, this chapter will conclude that 'backstory' and the next will get us back onto the main plot. So again, thanks for bearing with me as we get the main questions answered. Telling Luke's story put the main plot on pause for longer than I'd wanted, so how Mace and Luminara survived will be explored later on, probably in Ep. V; so FYI on that.

I'm guessing about 11 more chapters at this point to conclude Ep. IV before we begin on Ep. V, but don't etch that in stone, in case it winds up being 15 or so. OK? So, I don't mind telling you that Vader WILL discover who Luke really is in Ep. V, just cause so many of you (like me!) are looking forward to that part! So, without further ado, onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.32—Hope _

Han chose that moment to stick his head in the room as Luke recollected his frazzled nerves, reliving his nervous breakdown on that ship years ago.

"We'll be coming up on Yavin 4 in a few minutes," he quietly told them and Ben nodded. Luke was staring down at the crumpled blankets, so he didn't catch the worried frown his friend passed Kenobi.

Ben offered Han a reassuring look and dip of his chin, and the captain's shoulders unknotted. He turned his face to Luke.

"We're almost there, buddy," he added with resolve, and Luke absently nodded.

Ben doubted very much Han was referring to Yavin 4.

The door slid shut with a scraping whine; Ben gazed at Anakin's son, pushing away feelings of guilt and shame.

He reminded himself that the Force had ordained this for a purpose; he exhaled and took Luke's hands.

They were chilled and clammy.

Fade chose that opportunity to awaken, her telepathic yawn (though she did open her mouth), jarred Luke back to himself.

"How do you feel?" the assassin asked her with concern.

_Mostly replenished, little friend, _was the stoic reply. _I sense emotional turmoil in you though._

It was a question, her troubled eyes fixed on Luke.

The other just shook his head, his face too vacant for Ben's comfort.

"I'll be all right," was the emotionless reply, "just…remembering. You know I don't like doing this."

_I do, _she replied, _but, surely you have told your Jedi friend of our first meeting; that you were liberated and we escaped. Did you tell him of your when you decided your path?_

Just then the engines whined loudly and the ship jolted; they had come out of hyperspace.

"No," Luke firmly answered, "but it seems that'll have to be another time." He made to rise, but Ben took his wrist, forestalling him.

Luke gave him a questioning look.

"Luke," Ben softly said his eyes very serious, "I want you to know something."

Luke waited.

"No matter what happens in the future, I am deeply grateful to you for your trust." His grip tightened, showing his sincerity, "I'll never let you regret this gift."

Luke didn't expect the abundance of knots and tension inside of him to melt and unwind as much as they did. He took a focusing breath, wrestling to not feel so overwhelmed by this…at ease feeling overtaking him.

The problem was, he didn't want to drive it away; it felt…nice.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so consoled, so at peace. And then a knot did form, in his throat.

Putting his head down, he swallowed it. "Thank you, Ben," he whispered, barely audible. Glassy, wet blue met somber grey. "For listening, for…not thinking less of me."

Noc brushed his head against Luke's arm. Ben smiled at it and patted the bird's head.

"I agree with your feathered friend," the Jedi lightly told him, and Luke's pale lips twitched in a half-smile.

The ship rattled as it descended into the atmosphere. Ben sighed in resolution. "We're nearly there, it seems."

Luke did stand this time, stretched and maneuvered his body, testing his limits Ben assumed.

"You're almost totally healed," the Jedi informed him, but raised a hand, "yet, please don't overexert yourself for a day or two at least; just to be certain."

Luke nodded gravely. "I'll be careful." He turned to Ben with a self-depreciating grin. "I'm in the business of 'careful,' remember?"

Ben nodded, rising as well. The door re-opened and Han stepped in again, this time with Mace and Luminara.

"Kid, we're in the atmosphere," Han said, "I think once we're level again, you and your side-kicks should phase back into your ship and uh…," he glanced at the Jedi.

Luke got the hint. "My ship has morphic-plate tech," he told them, all business again, "that way, I have my 'professional' visage, but then if I want to blend among the civilians"—he omitted to add he _never_ did that, except maybe once a year—"the ship's plating can alter its color and dimensions, ergo, I have an entirely new ship."

The Jedi nodded, looking impressed, but not surprised.

"That must have been expensive," Macy put in.

"It was." Luke left it at that; they all knew how he earned his credits already.

He headed for the door.

"Hold on, kid," Han cut in, "once we land, don't forget, you're Luke Solo, not the Specter; be…different, okay?"

Luke nodded, twisting his lips. "The worshipful cousin, I know." He snickered at Han. "Don't enjoy it too much, cousin," he dryly added, and left.

Han turned to the Jedi innocently. "What, me? I never let adoration go to my head."

_That's because he never receives it, _Fade quipped as she flew out after Luke.

Noc chattered out his version of laughter as he trailed out last.

"Kids," Han grumbled to the entourage of grins around him, "no respect."

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Luke discreetly found a corner where he and the others could phase back into the _Revenant_. Once inside, Noc activated the controls to release the grappling claw holding them in place beneath the _Falcon_. Luke bee-lined for the storage holds, he had to change out of his white under-clothes.

They were dirty and blood-stained; it would raise too many questions. He was going to play civilian again; albeit it happened very rarely (too risky to the people he was around, after all), and he had to be invisible around them.

He opened crate after crate and moaned in frustration.

"Do I even have civilian clothes anymore?" he asked no one in particular.

He felt Fade glide up beside him.

_Yes, friend, your brown fatigues, I found them in the back, _she said and Luke turned in surprise.

They were dangling from her mouth. He laughed and took them with a 'thanks.'

"What would I do without you, Fade?"

_Fear not little friend, _was the cheerful reply, _I'll never let you find out._

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After Luke donned said fatigues and mussed his hair a bit to look youthful and unpretentious, he headed for the cockpit. Noc had already begun the transformation sequence; Luke could hear the plates skidding and the crackling of bolts and gears as the plates rearranged.

He glanced out the main viewport; good, the plating was already color-morphed; elegant silver had replaced lethal black.

"All right," he said to his two companions, "remember; only the people we rescued know that you guys aren't just regular animals. Now, the Jedi have persuaded them to keep it all quiet. They're the brave heroes who helped the now long-gone Specter free the princess; we're just Han's cousin and"—he couldn't make himself finish.

_Han's cousin's pets, _Fade finished with a humored snicker, _have no anxiety friend; Nocturne and I are not offended._

Luke rubbed his brow. "You guys know I don't think of you that way."

Noc butted his head with an encouraging chirp against Luke's arm. Luke petted his head.

"Good," he said in relief, "this will only be temporary."

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Their landing was done without ceremony. A rebel tower guard monitored their landings, and Leia had transmitted a secret code to the base ahead of time so that they knew she was aboard and they weren't Imperial spies.

They landed their two ships just outside a massive construct of aged mahogany colored stone ziggurat; the fabled Massassi Temple. Luke had read about them; he'd wondered once if the Jedi had built a secret base there during his initial search for his father. Of course, it had been another theory that proved false. He withheld the sigh.

Fresh resolve filled him; one day, he'd trace a lead that would take him to his father.

He'd promised himself, he'd promised his mother.

And he never quit a job until it was finished.

He picked up Noc and with Fade in tow, headed for the landing ramp.

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It was General Jan Dondonna and Garm Bel-Iblis who greeted them when they entered the Temple's main hanger area.

Leia lead the way, Han and Chewie on her one side, Luke with Noc, Fade and Biggs on her other.

Behind her were the other escaped rebels, and lastly strode in the Jedi.

When Leia entered, the hanger area fell dead quiet as everyone dropped what they were doing to rush forward to greet their previously believed lost princess.

But when the Jedi entered, the Temple erupted in cheers.

Yells and applause reigned, because many of the older rebels recognized Master Windu, Master Luminara and of course, the Negotiator from the Clone Wars.

The younger rebels just saw Jedi robes and lightsabers and the pure joy that the Jedi weren't so extinct after all exploded in the room like the birth of a new star.

"You're safe," Dondonna breathed in relief as he embraced Leia, "when we heard about the invasion of Alderaan we feared the worst."

Rebels, enlisted and officers, crowded around her, welcoming her home and then made their way to the Jedi, who came to stop just behind the princess. The Jedi were bombarded with exhilarated welcomes and many requests to shake hands.

They took it all in graceful stride, not at all overwhelmed by the attention.

If anything, they seemed quite happy to be received with happiness and not suspicion.

Palpatine's extravagant smear campaigns had not been wholly successful then.

"Leia!" several voices cried from the other side of the hanger. Leia looked over Dondonna's shoulder.

"Father! Mother!"

Jan wasn't at all put out when she broke from them to throw herself into her parent's arms.

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Ben made a point of lingering near Luke as they took in the bombardment of rebel welcome and Leia's exuberant reunion with her family.

Luke was smiling as he watched Leia hug her parents with all the enthusiasm of a 5 year old, not at all holding to 'royal protocol.'

He heard Threepio behind him say something about it, only to hear Artoo chirp a rebuke at him.

"Well, I was only saying," was the indignant response.

Han put an arm around him. "C'mon kid, let's find someone to pay me while the princess and Jedi get schmoozed from here to Kessel."

Luke nodded with a grin.

"Luke! Han! Where are you going?" a voice called as they headed off.

It was Leia, she was gesturing vigorously to them. "Come over here!"

Han passed Luke a bemused look but they did as bidden, Chewie following behind.

Leia excitedly pulled them close as they stopped a few paces away. "Father, Mother, this is Han and Luke Solo and Chewbacca," she introduced, "they helped the Specter and Jedi save my life."

Bail and Breha eagerly took their hands, shaking them and smiled.

"Oh, we can't thank you gentlemen enough," Breha avowed.

"Indeed," Bail agreed, and then his eyes turned up to Chewie. "And you are Chewbacca?" He paused, as something in his mind seemed to click, "The Chewbacca, from the Clone Wars?"

Chewie only nodded with a modest harn.

Luke could only grin as Bail dived into an expose of what a great honor it was to meet such a great hero and how the rebellion would only be too pleased to have such a renowned warrior in their ranks—and then Han's angry demands to Chewie of: _'why didn't you ever tell me!?_'

Luke only bowed our demurely as the discussion got more…involved and saw Garm scrutinizing him.

The General walked over, introduced himself, and shook Luke's hand.

"Your cousin is rather…outspoken," the general observed, his tone carefully neutral.

Luke pursed his lips. "He takes getting used to," he conceded, then felt a shiver go through him.

No; it couldn't be. He turned over to the Jedi, who had stilled, before turning to look in the direction in which they had come.

Luke could feel darkness filling his mind.

Vader; Vader had found them.

But…how?

He felt Garm jostle his arm. "Solo, you all right?"

"I think something's wrong," Luke numbly said, "look at the Jedi."

He rushed over to Obi-Wan; Garm close behind.

"General Kenobi," Luke pressed, "what is it?" He already knew the answer, he could feel Vader's presence all around them, like a dark plague hungry for new prey.

Ben nodded. "Vader, he's here."

Garm waved to the officers. "The Empire's found us!" he announced gravely. "All officers and flight personnel to the debriefing room."

Han was instantly at Luke's side. "How did they find us?"

Luke had a terrible epiphany. "Homing beacon."

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A few minutes later, Han stood atop the Falcon as Luke knelt beside him, prying the homing beacon off his ship. Han's arms were folded.

He hated being outsmarted, especially by the Empire.

Now he owed them for the jettisoned spice…and this.

And he'd get reimbursement, one way or another.

Luke lifted up the homing beacon and used some slick, precision tools to deactivate it.

He looked up at Han, his lips twisted. "Some criminals we are," he wryly said. "We're embarrassing our professions, Han."

Han rolled his eyes. "Yeah," was all he gruffly replied, "so, you're only deactivating it? What if they can remotely"—

"I shut all that down too," Luke dismissed with a wave. "But, I want to keep this model; it's their newest one. Might be…informative."

"Informative?" Han scoffed. "Even if it is their newest piece of junk, your people still have tech way ahead of this. What could your techs possibly learn? How to program it make them caf?"

Luke snickered. "You'd be surprised."

Another eye roll. "Yeah, I'm sure," was the groaned concession. He heard Chewie harning from the other end of the hanger and looked in his direction. "I guess they're starting kid; we should go."

Luke stuffed the small homing beacon in his pocket and he and Han jumped off the Falcon's top, heading for Chewie.

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"The station is heavily shielded, and carries a firepower greater than half the Starfleet."

That was the 'welcome' news Han and Luke heard as they entered the large ready room with Chewie. Luke felt his stomach twist when he realized it was mainly pilots being debriefed.

But that meant, oh no.

They were serious; they were actually going to mount an attack against the Death Star.

Luke's tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth. Were they insane?!

Why not just evacuate?!

_Because then the abomination would only follow_, Fade gently supplied, and Luke exhaled sharply. _The dark lord will not be so easily eluded._

He had known that, but…still. He put his head down in dismay as Dondonna credited Leia for supplying the plans—

The Jedi were careful to not mention it was actually Spector's techs, Link and Mouse. The more concealed they were the better.

And…if Leia thought she had been tortured in order to get the plans to her father and the rebels, they all knew it'd be easier for her to cope with her torment.

"…we have detected a weakness in the battle-station."

Luke's ears perked at that; he was only half aware of finding an open seat beside a dark haired pilot with piercing eyes and Han's skeptical expressions.

Where was Biggs? Oh; Luke saw him closer to the back, near the Jedi. His stony face made it plain that however suicidal, Biggs planned on being part of this 'attack force.'

Luke's stomach twisted again. The dark pressed in suddenly all around him as he heard General Dondonna outline the means to destroying the DS station. Half-listening, he heard the pilot beside him object that it was impossible, only to be assured by Master Windu, who stepped forward, that with the Force, all things were possible.

He rose as the pilot asked, rather demanded of Windu, if the Jedi would be flying with them then.

He didn't feel the Jedi's eyes on him as he left the room, the dark crushing him in on all sides and making it hard to breathe.

He needed air, quickly.

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Once outside the Temple, Luke let himself collapse to his knees, forcing himself to look up at the bright, clear sky and the brilliant citrine orb of Yavin hovering amongst the sparse clouds and expanse of azure overhead.

Why, why was he practically choking on the presence of evil? The Jedi had not seem so affected? Was it because he was lacking his suit? Were they more adeptly trained to block the heaviness of the dark side?

Luke tried to assure himself they'd be fine, that with the Jedi now here, the rebellion had a real chance of success. After all, they had the Force as well—

He pushed away images of falling before Vader's twin blades. He barred his mind from recalling the Jedi who'd arrived minus hands and arms, a couple without legs.

The rebel medics could replace those anyways.

They still had hope.

A dark voice snickered in his head. Luke froze, practically able to hear the raspy breathing.

_You do have as much hope as you pretend, young assassin, _the foreboding presence told him.

Luke's breath caught.

Vader.

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**A/N: **OK, so I gotta go to work soon, but I hope you enjoy! As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Till next time.


	33. Chapter 33: Determining

**A/N:** Hello friends; as always many thanks for the lovely reviews! I always appreciate the love this fic gets, and your feedback helps me gauge how I'm doing as a writer, so plz keep the coming! Anyhow, no questions per se this time, but lots of happiness I guess cause Vader's on the scene again. I swear, there is no such thing as 'too much' Vader! LOL.

Anyways, I found a great vid on YouTube about Luke and Vader that gave me some inspiration about what their relationship will be like now that Vader knows about him. It's just called "Luke Vader Haunted" and it's by WormieHerMajesty. So, I strongly encourage checking it out; it's VERY well done and I think you'll all enjoy it. Now that Vader knows about 'Specter's' existence, he'll definitely be "haunting" him! OK, so onward!

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_SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.33—Determining _

"You," Luke breathed in disbelief. How, how could Vader reach out to him from so far away?

_Do not underestimate the Force, little assassin, _was the imperious reply, _the Force knows no 'distance,' possesses no limits. Surely the Jedi warned you of this?_

Luke swallowed, trying to focus on breathing; the dark side was so thick around, like endless walls, all crushing in.

He was back on the DS, pinned under the 'mountain' Vader had summoned to trap him beneath.

_Do not resist, young one, _Vader admonished, _you have given the rebels false hope by bringing the Jedi to them; you know this, or have you forgotten already how they fell before my blade?_

Luke hadn't forgotten. His stomach twisted in fear.

_Good, you are as sensible then, _was the approving reply, _the only true hope your friends have for survival is if you surrender to me; now. _

Luke's throat closed. No; he was lying, he had to be.

_Unless you prefer to be responsible for their deaths? _Was the gravely toned question. _ Blood covers your hands already, child; perhaps their blood- the princess's blood, the Jedi's- perhaps that would not mean so much to you after all._

Luke's teeth ground; Vader would pay for that. Anger smothered fear and angst sparked the his nerve's kindling.

_You want my friends, dark lord, _Luke found himself hissing in reply, _you'll have to get through me._

A snicker in the Force. _You wield a short memory, young one. Do you truly believe you will fare better defying me again?_

The threatening undertone was soft, a minute thread mixed with genuine humor…but still there.

Luke forced himself to straighten, electric blue eyes narrowing.

No one crossed the Specter, dark lord or not.

_You'll rue those words, _the assassin quietly, lethally promised.

Another snicker. _I look forward to your efforts, child._

And the presence was gone.

Luke held back the groan as he tried to rise, every muscle shrieking with pain. But then feet pounded up to him.

"Luke!" Ben shouted. "Are you all right, child?"

Arms helped him to stand.

"Kid? What happened? Kenobi here said something about feeling darkness all around you."

Han; sounding strange with no sarcasm to be heard in his voice.

Luke shook his head, but then felt the cool breeze of Fade's power pushing away the lingering effects of the dark side in his mind.

"Vader, he was here," he said his voice gasping as he caught his breath. His entire body burned still from the dark lord's power bearing over him so. "He…he knows we're gonna attack the Death Star."

Han sputtered. "Of course he does; the rebels don't exactly hide their suicidal impulses ya know."

He didn't see the reproving frown Ben passed Han; he also didn't see Han ignore it.

Luke let himself moan in pain now as he stretched aching limbs and his knotted up back. Ben and Han released him; he met Han's eyes.

"Han, it's gotta be me," he gravely said.

Shrewd eyes narrowed at him. "What's gotta be you, kid?" his voice was too low to not already know the answer.

"I have to destroy the station."

"What!?"

Luke sighed, expecting that response, so he turned and strode purposefully back to the Temple. Han jumped after him, grabbing for his arms to stop him; Luke didn't let him.

"Kid! Kid! Are you crazy—no don't answer that. I mean, have you thought this through? No, forget that too; I know you haven't. But, would you please _think_ about this!? You're not stupid, you know even with your tricked out ship, you can't beat that station plus a Sith!"

An aged hand reached out and halted Luke. Ben's sober gaze caught his.

"Luke," Ben seriously began, "Vader taunted you, didn't he?"

Luke said nothing, but his looking away was telling enough.

"Figures," Han ground out, "Kid, the dark lord was baiting you; and you fell for it."

"I know what he was doing," Luke rebuked testily, "that doesn't mean I'm going to let him just come here, kill all of these people and slaughter the rest of the Jedi."

He sighed at Ben's consoling hands on his back. "I'm…I'm sorry, Ben, I don't think you Jedi are weak"—didn't he?—"it's just that, he already cut so many of you down already."

"And what makes you different kid?" Han challenged, though Luke knew he was only doing what he thought best for his friend, "He almost had you on the Death Star, he ripped you apart inside, you nearly died. He's luring you into a dogfight; we've all heard the stories about what a great pilot Vader is; you face him in space, he'll blast you outta the sky."

Ben tightened his hold on Luke as he flinched. "That isn't it, is it Luke?" the Jedi knowingly asked. "He wants to take you alive."

"No," Han cut in angrily, grabbing Luke's arm and dragging him the Falcon, "we're leaving, right now. I'm gonna get my reward"—he searched the hanger and found the princess with the generals and Jedi—"hey, princess! We gotta talk!"

Luke pulled at him. "Han, let go of me!"

"No way kid," Han retorted, putting his face right in front of Luke's so he could keep his voice down, "now, I admit your hiding in the open with the rebels was my idea, but I'm not taking chances, not with you. So, you're gonna work with me and Chewie for a while till the heat's off then, you can go back to being the Specter again."

"You really think there'll be a time for _me_ when the 'heat is off'?" was the skeptical return.

Han didn't answer that, looking away with a frustrated grimace.

Leia rushed over, her worried gaze taking in Han's livid, fearful face and Luke pulling at Han's grip, until Han called over Chewie and told Chewie to 'take the kid.'

"Princess, time for you and your Jedi buddy here"—he gestured to Kenobi—"to pay up. Me, Chewie and the kid are leaving."

Leia looked to Ben, her face bewildered.

Ben quietly explained the situation, Vader's 'arrival' and intruding into Luke's mind, Han sarcastically interrupting with: 'so we're leaving before the kid goes and gets himself killed for you people' and 'suicide's not in my job description, Your Worship,' to which Luke cut in with: 'since when?'

Leia's face fell; she gave Luke a shocked and then deeply worried look. "Luke," she managed, putting a hand to her paled face, and her expression stalled Luke from struggling against Chewie more. She walked up to him and took his arm gently. "You've…you've already done so much for us," she put her head down, "it's why I couldn't believe at first that you are…who you are. No one in that…_world_ is as noble and selfless as you."

"Leia, the Alliance paid me to-" Luke tried to stop her from saying more, but those shining caramel eyes immobilized his tongue.

"If you only cared about money"—and she stabbed Han with a look—"you'd work for the Empire." She avowed with finality, "I…I just want to thank you, for everything."

Luke sighed. "You were worth it," he confessed and then froze, realizing what he'd said. He felt the warmth climbing his face, and Han's wide grin didn't help.

Leia's bright smile only deepened his blush, but then he caught her cheeks growing pink too. "Anyways," she said clearly flustered, "I can't in good conscience ask you to stay—you've already done too much for us." She met his gaze, her shimmering eyes sad, regretful. "I…I'll have the deck officer bring over your reward." She gave him a hesitant smile, subdued before walking away to collect the precious metals they'd set aside for Han.

Luke sighed; tugging at Chewie's durasteel grip. "Chewie you can let go of me now."

"No he can't kid, not till we're outta here."

"Han"—but then Luke froze.

It was happening again, the Force, it was back; only, it wasn't the dark side that overwhelmed his senses, but the Light.

_If you leave, this will be their fate, _it softly whispered to him.

And then he saw it:

_He left on his ship with Noc and Fade, Han and Chewie close by in the Falcon, Han reassuring him the Jedi would be the edge the rebellion needed. Except, Han was wrong._

_Luke saw as over the Death Star, the rebels sent up all the Jedi, with their best non-sensitive pilots the Empire unleashed over 200 fighters…Vader leading them._

_Vader pursued each Jedi with an obsessive hatred. Luke could feel Vader's black hatred for the Jedi…for how they'd betrayed him…how they'd taken everything from him—_

_Wait! Vader's hatred of the Jedi was personal!? Luke realized, incredulous. Why?! What had happened to create such a fanatical hunger for revenge?_

_While Vader relished destroying each Jedi fighter, fury remained that Kenobi stayed planet-side to head up the evacuation._

_Luke wondered at why Vader seemed to despise Kenobi of all the Jedi._

_Only, it was too late for Ben too._

_When the DS entered Yavin space, it fell into orbit around the planet opposite the rotation of the 4__th__ moon. Once it cleared the planet, Luke watched in horror as the unbelievably massive super-laser fired up, each sub-laser feeding the nexus…until—_

_Green devastation spewed from the station, slamming into the moon, ripping apart continents, boiling the oceans, gushing out lava from beneath the crust till the moon exploded in the largest detonation Luke had ever seen, an overwhelmingly huge shock wave tearing from the center, making the scene blindingly bright._

_Ben…Leia…Garm, the rebels…all gone, reduced to atoms._

_The attack force over the Death Star obliterated, almost single-handedly by Vader—_

_All because Luke had fled, saving himself and condemning them to their fate._

_Vader's words rang in his mind:_

'_Blood covers your hands already, child; perhaps their blood- the princess's blood, the Jedi's- perhaps that would not mean so much to you after all.'_

Luke's insides wrenched; he could taste their blood, in his mouth, he let out a sob-like cry.

He was suddenly jarred back to himself by Han.

"Kid! Kid! What's wrong!?"

Thankfully, Han was whispering is…albeit fiercely, as he jostled Luke as hard as he could beneath an overhang of the _Falcon_.

Luke's hands flying up to seize Han's upper arms stopped him.

Luke's eyes fluttered, refocusing, he caught Han's grim stare.

"Your creepy intuition's been talking to you again," he voice was soberly deadpan.

Luke nodded. He swallowed hard; the vision's meaning hitting him full force.

"Han…I have to stay," he managed to choke out.

Han's shoulders dropped.

"You had a vision from the Force." Obi-Wan. It wasn't a question.

Luke nodded. "If I leave," he waved at the hanger, his face shadowed with the severity of the situation, "they'll _all die_—the Jedi too."

Ben's mouth tightened into a somber line; but he didn't look surprised.

Han let out a resigned breath. "I can't talk you outta this, can I?"

Luke slowly shook his head. "I can't live with it, Han; you know I couldn't."

Han sighed, putting his head down, grimy hands running through his hair. "Kid, I don't understand this 'Force' of yours, but are you sure it's right? What if"—

"If Luke had the vision captain," Ben supplied, "you can be certain it'll come to pass if Luke ignores it."

Han threw him a disputing frown. "And how can you be so certain of that?"

"Because Luke is the most powerful Force user in all of history," Ben weightily declared, his face stern and unyielding, "no other Jedi has arisen with even half Luke's power."

Understanding lit in Han's eyes. "And that's why Vader wants him."

Ben nodded his face grim. "The side that has Luke is the side that will win, it's that simple captain."

Han turned to Luke with an expression that said: 'Well!? You still wanna stay?'

Luke exhaled heavily. "Han, I have to stay; if my father were here, he'd be in this fight. I can't abandon all of these people. I have ties to them now," he put his head down, "I…I don't expect you to do the same. Go, pay off Jabba."

Han blew a breath out through his nose. "Kid, you'd better survive this," he warned harshly, pointing a finger at him, "I expect to meet up with you after this is over."

Luke's body un-tensed, relieved he was trying to understand. "I will, Han; I promise."

Han leveled Kenobi a hard glare. "You'd better take care of him."

Ben placed a protective arm around Luke. "I will, captain, on my honor."

Han nodded, seeming at least partly appeased.

Leia chose that moment to return. Her expression was all business when she looked at Han.

"Please wait here for the metals, captain," she said in a clipped voice, "they're just packing them up now."

Han only nodded; Luke wanted to knock their heads together.

Han and Leia clearly wanted to say more to each other…but were both too stubborn to be the first one to break the ice. It was like watching a staring contest to see who blinked first.

Luke rolled his eyes as the princess walked away. "Han," he chided—

"Don't even say it, kid," Han retorted as Ben shook his head and strode over to Master Windu, who was talking with General Bel-Iblis, "women are more trouble than Hutts—and just as dangerous if you cross them. I'm taking my reward and paying off Jabba while I'm still intact to do it."

Luke only sighed. "Fine, if that's the way you want it." He met the smuggler's gaze, "Take care, Han."

Chewie harned sadly, grabbing Luke from behind in a massive Wookie hug. Luke surprised himself by laughing. But…Chewie had the effect on people, amazing as it was.

"You too, Chewie! You too!"

Chewie reluctantly set him down. Luke patted his arm, hugged Han, who took a second too long in letting him go, and then caught Luke off guard by direly saying, "May the Force be with you."

As Luke walked away, he didn't see the pensive way Han looked after him.

The officer with Han's reward arrived a second later, and Han only nodded to the man who offered to help them load the cargo into his ship. Han only shook his head with a 'thanks anyways.' He could feel Chewie's reproachful eyes on him.

"What are you lookin' at?" he crossly asked, grabbing one of the containers. "I know what I'm doing."

Chewie said nothing.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When Leia found Garm, he was with Masters Windu and Kenobi.

"It'll take a Jedi to make the shot," Mace was informing the other General, "we'll send all of our number up."

Kenobi shook his head. "Master Windu, if Luke's vision is correct"—

"We can't count on Luke to make the shot alone," Windu objected, "he's talented, but not a Jedi."

Leia felt her mouth gape when it hit her that Windu and Obi-Wan discussed Luke's Force gift in front of Bel-Iblis when they all agreed-!

Obi-Wan caught her expression. He nodded soberly. "The general figured it out already, Leia," he explained.

Garm nodded, his long dark hair jostling. "It was difficult not to, when he reacted to the 'Force' the same time as you Jedi."

Leia took in a sharp breath. "General—" she began.

He held up a hand. "I'm sworn to secrecy, Your Highness," he appeased, "having a secret Force user in our ranks will be helpful anyways."

Leia put her head down. "Luke's not staying," she revealed.

Garm slowly closed his eyes. "I see," was all he said.

Leia let out a breath. "What of our pilots?" it was best to change the subject.

"We've replace them all from our prior losses—except Red Five," Garm reported, holding up a helmet, "I was hoping…." He let the sentence trial off.

Leia nodded.

"My gift is not for flying," Ben admitted, "but whatever I can do here, I'm at your service."

Leia gestured. "We're going to start evac immediately; I was hoping actually, the Jedi would coordinate and lead it. We're going to break up our forces and send them to our other bases; your experience in this sort of thing would greatly help. My father is in charge of it."

Ben nodded. "Of course."

Garm pursed his lips in a thin line. "All right," he said, "any Jedi that want to fly, we'll set up with X-wings; any who want to help with evac…our chances of making the attack run shot are slim anyways."

"They were," Luke countered, striding up to them, "until now."

Leia started as Luke stopped in front of her, his face determined. "I'm staying, Leia. I'll make the shot for the rebellion."

Garm's face was too chiseled to smile, but he seemed less severe. He held the helmet out to Luke. He took it with a nod.

Holding it with one hand, he saluted Leia with the other. "Red Five, reporting for duty, princess."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Leia was too quiet as she walked him to his ship, no longer the black-plated _Revenant_, but the silver-plated _Starazor._ Its finish and curves were still impressive, but not quite as terrifying as its other visage was known to be.

"We could give you an X-wing," she offered again.

Luke shook his head. "I'm gonna need my ship's plating for this fight…but I might take you up on the X-Wing someday," he added to placate her.

She felt like she owed him something for before. He didn't agree, but she was stubborn—like Han.

He patted the glossy hull. Fade and Noc were already inside, doing pre-flight ops. He didn't expect the princess to walk up to him and kiss his cheek.

And blast it all if the blush didn't return with a vengeance.

"Thank you," she said, her voice tender and genuine, "I don't pretend that I fully understand you yet; but I do know one thing about you already: you're a true hero."

Luke was quite certain his stomach just fell through the floor.

"Please come back," she entreated, "I would like…I know assassins don't have friends as a general rule"—

"Too dangerous," Luke filled in, his voice hushed.

"But…you could make an exception, for me? You did for Han, and Ben."

Luke looked at her, asking if she was certain. She nodded that she was.

"I would like that," Luke heard himself say.

They were interrupted by Ben heading towards them. "Good luck," Leia said as she turned to leave.

Luke felt his lips twitch upwards at her dazzling smile.

Ben pulled a small, narrow box from his robes, catching Luke's attention.

"What you're doing is very brave, Luke," he said evenly.

Luke shook his head. "It's not brave," he objected quietly, "it's 'necessary.' The Jedi are too important to risk…and Vader's too great a pilot. I won't chance it."

Ben nodded, no doubt realizing his motives already. "I meant what I said before, Luke; Anakin, he would be so proud of you."

A new kind of weight settled into Luke's stomach; perhaps because he wanted to believe it so badly. "Thank you," he whispered.

The small box creaked slightly as Ben opened it. When he pulled out a lightsaber, Luke didn't understand at first why looking at it constricted his throat. But then, the Force filled his head with a warm, confident knowing:

"My father's?" he asked in hushed disbelief.

Ben nodded. "The weapon of a Jedi Knight." He offered it to Luke, who didn't take it at first.

"Your father wanted you to have this, when you were old enough," Ben said by way of persuasion, and Luke felt his hand lift for it almost of its own volition.

The cool metal settled perfectly into his palm; some kind of 'rightness' tingled in all the way up his arm.

Ben gave him a tiny smile, as if something were resolved in his private musings. "May the Force be with you, Luke."

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Luke's own thoughts were interrupted by Artoo rolling up, chirping in question.

Luke gave him a small grin. "I appreciate the offer, Artoo, but I don't need an astromech on my ship."

Artoo whirred in disappointment.

"Why don't you go with Biggs instead?" Luke sought around for his friend, who was climbing up a ladder to his own X-Wing not too far off. "Biggs!"

The other turned.

"Take Artoo with you!"

Biggs nodded with a wide grin and waved the little droid over, who whistled happily.

The various fighters' engines were roaring to life.

They were lifting off soon.

**XXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When Luke seated himself into the pilot's seat, Fade was already in her chair. Noc was at the console between them, plugged in.

Through the viewport, he could see the techs finishing final checks, pulling away the long fueling tubes. He steadied himself, reaching for his helmet and engaging the opaque-program on the viewports so he could pull on his Specter's helmet.

It would give his mind some protection from Vader, Force-resistant as it was.

And with the one-way feature from his viewports, no one would see.

The fighters lifted off. He could sense Biggs and Artoo lift off behind him as the Starazor rose into the atmosphere.

He grimaced, not liking Biggs being in the action again so soon. He touched the other's mind—Biggs had long been aware of his power.

_You're staying where I can see you at all times, _he flatly ordered the other, _I'm not fishing you out of an Imperial prison again. Got it?_

Biggs groaned dramatically in his thoughts. _As if you're gonna give me a choice?_

_Nope; I'm not. _

_Right, I guess then that's my cue to say: sure thing boss; whatever you say._

_It is._

Another groan.

Luke shook his head and pulled on the controls to lift them out of the moon's gravitational field.

As the small armada of fighters cleared the monolithic orb of Yavin, they saw it.

The shimmering white-silver sphere heralding their destruction.

"Look at the size of that thing," the dark haired pilot, Wedge exclaimed.

"Cut the chatter, Red Two," Red Leader rebuked, "accelerate to attack speed and report in."

They did so, each rattling off their colors and numbers.

Luke felt the adrenaline take him, as it always did on a 'job.' He exhaled slowly, keeping his head level and dived at the Death Star with the other fighters.

He activated the weapons, letting his ship show some of its teeth.

Not all, at least not yet.

The wing panels and underbelly of the ship each drew back in multiple places, letting blaster cannons and other heavy artillery reveal themselves. Noc took over weapons controls while Luke flew.

"Take out as much as you can, as fast as you can," Luke ordered Noc, watching the other fighters bee-line to the DS's endless turrets and other batteries.

He searched the Force. Where was Vader?

"Where is he, Fade?"

The Ethereal reached out. _Near, he is waiting until he knows our full offensive has arrived before unleashing their own forces._

"He won't be long then," Luke replied grimly, "Squad Leaders," he said, "it won't be long before the Empire sends its fighters after us, we need to make that attack run now."

"Agreed, Red Five," Gold Leader returned, "I'll take the first run; Gold 2 and 3, you're with me."

As the other pilots sounded off they were right behind him, the coldness rose up around Luke again.

Vader.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Vader could not be more pleased.

The rebels had sent their pathetic 'attack forces,' nothing more than a few deluded pilots in stunt fighters…but the Specter had arrived with them.

Goading the boy had been easy; he had to give the child credit for discerning his ploy, but he had come, all the same.

"This will be a day long remembered," he said to Tarkin, stonily standing beside him, "it will see the end of the Jedi, as well as the rebellion."

An aide rushed over, informing them that about 30 rebels ships had come, but they were too small to be taken out by the turbo lasers.

Tarkin seemed annoyed, but Vader was not caught off guard. "We must destroy them ship to ship, get the crews to their fighters." He made for the corridor.

Tarkin turned, as if about to demand where Vader was going, but at the last moment, decided against it. Vader didn't acknowledge it. Tarkin's province was the political arena.

Vader was a warrior; battle was his.

He made for the hangers.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It wasn't long before the fighters showed up. The warning blips appeared on Luke's sensors.

"Fighters, coming in!" he called out.

"My scope's negative," Biggs replied, "I don't see them."

"Pick up visual scanning," Red Leader directed, "here they come!"

Wave after wave of TIE's seemed to manifest from nowhere.

Luke had a terrible foreboding. "Fade, how many are there?"

_Over two hundred, friend, _was the dour reply.

"Noc, activate all weapon systems; we've got work to do," Luke directed, and let the Force take him.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**A/N: **Enjoy friends! We're in the thick of battle! Plz review!


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